HIVZ
by Leonessa Ivanovna
Summary: MI6 is planning on driving to Brookland, the Rangers plan on marching, and the zombies are waiting.
1. Chapter 1

THE best thing about FFN is you can make the people do what ever you want. So io've made this little fic up. I haven't seen one like it on the ARFandom, and thik it might just be waht it lacks.

* * *

The sun was hot over the African soil. Beth rubbed the gritty, sticky gunk out of her eyes. She was a free lance reporter, currently writing a story about the continued unrest in Sudan. The lack of coverage was appalling, but American audience back home found it hard to connect with the poor, determined people if they had not seen it personally. A trap flapped in an almost nonexistent wind. A child's cry could be heard over the soft noises of a few hundred displaced people. Beth hurried on. Her last stop, her _clincher, _for this story was a scene that was about to play before her. She ducked into a hut made of metal scraps and plastic sheeting, thin enough to be plastic wrap. Inside was a young girl, no older then seventeen. The girl was wrapped in bright swaths of fabric and looked concerned. A child sat on her lap. _She's no more than a child herself_ Beth thought. She shook herself. Now was not the time. Beth leaned forward to look at the baby. Through the translator Beth learnt that the child was not the girl's. The girl, Aziza, found the child while gathering water. That had been three days ago. The baby had gotten staidly worse. It was shriveled looking, eyes open and fist punching the air. Beth reached out to touch it. A hand wrench her arm back.

"No!"

Beth looked behind her. The translator, a grizzled man of about fifty, shook his head.

"You can not touch." He whispered.

"Why not?" Beth asked, at normal volume. The baby twisted it's head to look at them. The translator jumped back in fear.

"It's a _baby_." Beth snapped. Stooping, Beth clucked at the bundle. She wiggled her fingers over the child's head. It stretched, grabbing for them. "It won't hurt me."

She turned to send the translator an _I-told-you-so_ look, and the baby caught her pinky in its hands. A small moan escaped its little lips. It brought the finger towards its mouth.

"Look! It's hungry! You need to feed it!" Beth turned properly around to look the translator head-on. There was a thump behind her. Aziza had dropped the baby, and backed to the far was of the hut, pressing her body into it. She began to jabber rapidly.

The translator began to speak rapidly.

"You can't let it eat you. You have not protected yourself."

Beth snorted, "Protect myself? We need to protect the child!"

The child rolled onto its back, and crawled toward Aziza. The girl lashed out, her foot catching the infant and propelling it across the room. It rolled to a rest at Beth's feet. She scooped it up. The child moaned again. Beth cuddled it close. It moaned louder, heaving on her clutch. Beth popped her thumb into the child's mouth.

The translator let out a yell, and jerked on Beth's elbow. The infant snapped its mouth shut. Aziza screamed. The shriek rattled through Beth. The mouth worked on Beth's thumb.

Open

Shut.

Snap.

Snap.

The baby only had one tooth. It was desperately gumming on Beth's finger. Beth let out a gasp as the tooth nicked the skin by her nail. She pulled out her hand and watched the blood drip onto the dirt floor.

Aziza howled.

**

Jack threw another newspaper on the kitchen table.

"Man, these guys are dropping like flies."

Alex looked up. BETH SUNDERHAUS' HUSBAND NOW KILLED screamed the headline.

Alex picked up the paper and scanned the article.

_A few days ago, after returning home from a recent station in the Sudan region of Africa, an American reporter by the name of Beth Sunderhus (who was working with BBC on the political climate in the African country) succumbed to a mysterious illness. Before her death, Sunderhus complained of headaches, severe muscle cramps and nausea. She was rushed to the hospital , and later died of a brain hemorrhage. Until recently, she was survived by her husband Nick. He too had began to complain of the same symptoms. Mr. Sunderhus was eating lunch with a few friends when he had a sudden swelling of the brain. He was rushed to the hospital, where he later died._

_"It was really strange," a friend said about the incident. "He seemed to be having a seizure and started moaning and stuff. Really creepy. Like a zombie."_

_Doctor Winter, of Cambridge University, said these signs are common of a sudden…_

Alex put down the paper. He didn't want to read any more.

Jack tapped the article. "It's right up the street."

Alex looked at her in confusion. Where the Sunderhus family had lived was nowhere near King's Road. Then he looked at the map so kindly displayed on the front page.

"Do you think it has something to do with them?"

Jack nodded. "I bet my life on it."

Alex sighed. "What do you want to do? Go knock on the door and say 'Hey, some American reporter died of a strange African illness, you want to tell us anything?' They'd laugh. No. better yet! They'd sent _me_ to Africa to find out what it is. It's probably some man person killing off reporters or something."

Jack wasn't listening. She was scanning the paper again, thinking. Suddenly she bit her lower lip. A worried look entered her eyes. Her brow furrowed and she looked like she was about to cry.

Alex stood up. He had no idea what Jack a just read, but it was bad.

Craning over her shoulder, he asked, "What's wrong."

Jack put the paper face down on the table. "It just reminded me of something I read a few years ago. It's nothing."

Alex squeezed her arm. "You sure?"

She nodded and rubbed her eyes. Then she was bright a chipper again.

"Alex, school. Now. Education is very important."

Alex grumbled and headed out the door.

When he turned back to waved, Jack had her back to him, and had picked up her phone.

**

Mrs. Jones stood in front of Alan Blunt. It wasn't often she was nervous, but it wasn't often MI6 got something like….this. It was MI5's area. Homeland security and all that.

"The Prime Minister is trying to trip us up." She said. "He's looking for a reason to drag us to court."

Mr. Blunt shook his head. "No. He's desperate. Parliament is thinking of closing down the Chanel Tunnel."

"They can't do that."

"They can, and they will. This is not the normal strain. It naturally mutated, and is now spread by _any_ form of human secretion. We have no way of stopping it, and it will become rampant. Once this gets into the illegal organ trade, everything is finished."

"Has it?"

Mr. Blunt laid a clipping on the desk. Mrs. Jones closed her eyes.

"How many?" she whispered.

The was a pause. She opened her eyes. Mr. Blunt pulled on his necktie, and swallowed.

"Almost four thousand."

"Four thousand?" Mrs. Jones slumped into the closest chair. "Can we prepare in anyway?"

Mr. Blunt glared at her. "You know what works, and you know what doesn't. Issue the information accordingly."

There was a soft tap on the door.

Mr. Blunt cleared his throat.

"Enter."

Miss Treat entered, clutching a note tightly. Her lips were thin and her hands were white and shaking. A tear rolled down her cheek.

"Jack Starbright just called."

Mrs. Jones felt a knot twist in her gut. She had worked it out…

"She just left you a message," Miss Treat continued. "She said…she said…_I know what problems we are facing. Has it gone to Indonesia?_"

Mr. Blunt looked at her for a moment. Finally he said. "Yes. Tell her yes."

Miss Treat trembled slightly. "There's more." She whispered. "_If it has…if it has gone to Indonesia, no one is safe. I'd suggest cutting all out of country transport, air, Chunnel, the ferries. I've dealt with a number of logistical cleanups. I know how the pencil pushers handle it. I'll help in any way I can. If this is as wide spread as I think this is…if they are really coming…we need as much prepared as we can. Otherwise, we won't stand a change. Remember, Nevada? June of '51? Think of that international. There'd be nothing left. Give me a call when you get this. We have a lot to talk over. Jack._"

Mrs. Jones found it hard to breath. Her necklace had come to tight.

Miss Treat swallowed again, chocking on tears. "What is going on?" she wailed. "What happened in Nevada? Why close down a county? What happed in Indonesia? What's coming?"

Mrs. Jones stood up. "I want you to call a meeting. Get everyone in here you can. Undercover, injury leave…" she looked at Mr. Blunt, who nodded. "Pull them out of school if you have to. I need you to do it as fast as you can. And I want a blackout on all interior commutations in this building. Nothing going in or out except that we need everyone in. Code Omega Zeda. "

Miss Treat nodded. When she got to the door, Mr. Blunt's voice stopped her. "And if you could be so kind, bring in Jack Starbright. She will be helping us with the briefing."

Then he did something unexpected. As Miss Treat left the room, he spoke.

"Thank you."


	2. Chapter 2

ONE fantastic guess! Now a word find. How many times is the word ZOMBIE mentoned?

* * *

Alex's hand was cramping. He looked at the clock. Ten minutes left. Where did the rest of the fifty minutes go? Alex scanned the paper, looking at the way his script began to run together and lean slightly to the right as he wrote. Five minutes. Alex heard a student swear softly nearby. Hand screaming in pain, Alex hastily scribbled a last sentence. His hand was shaking and he rubbed it gingerly. Alex flexed it slowly. The class had five minutes left. Mr. Bimer's treat. Mr. Bimer was a slightly sadistic English teacher, giving moral timed essays and having the class read books like _Crime and Punishment_. He claimed he wanted them to truly learn. Alex was convinced he cultivated serial killers in this room. There was a shrill ring from the landline on Bimer's desk. The man picked it up. All movement in the room stopped. Who would get the luckily break?

"Hello. Room 122, Bimer speaking."

A pause. Students began to whisper excitedly. Alex shot a glance at James, who shrugged. No thoughts there.

"Yes, they are here. "

A rapid hiss rushed from the piece.

"Now?" Mr. Bimer looked annoyed. "I was about to start passing out _The Great Gatsby_. Fine. Yes, I'll send them up. Yes. Have a good day. Bye. Good bye."

He slammed down the phone.

"Rider." He jerked his thumb towards the door. "Front, now. Doctor's appointment. Did you hear what I said on the phone."

Alex nodded.

"Good. Chapters one and two. Characterise Nick and Gatsby. A paragraph each. Tomorrow, on my desk."

Alex nodded again and rushed for the door. When he was out in the hall, he heard Mr. Bimer behind him. "I hope you're getting this down!"

Alex's sneakers squeaked on the laminated floor. There was nothing creepier than a quiet empty school in the middle of the day. He knew Brookland Comprehensive like the back of his hand. Left hall, then through the canteen and towards the front doors. Sharp turn to the desk and wave at…Jack? What was she doing here? Alex knew she would have told him, but based on this morning, it might have slipped her mind. Alex signed his name on the list and looked at Jack.

She smiled guiltily. "I'm so sorry Alex. I completely forgot. "

The employee at the desk grunted. "It happens to the best of us."

Jack shifted slightly. "Your appendix appointment. It completely slipped my mind, and Mr. … Dr. Blunt was kind enough to bump up the appointment, so you won't miss as much school. "

Alex smiled tightly. "That's very kind of him."

Jack smiled at the worker and hefted her bag higher on her shoulder. "Let's go."

Alex followed slowly behind.

*HIVZHIVZHIVZ*

When he was safely buckled into the seat, Jack pulled out. The car's wheel's whirred on the street.

"You called them, didn't you?"

Jack shrugged. She didn't even seem guilty. Alex found this incredible.

"Why? You know they'll want something in return. It'll be me! I know it! Why didn't you think?" Alex didn't mean to sound so harsh, but his bad day had gone from fucked up to total shit storm.

Jack shot Alex a glare, and he suddenly realized how serious this was. There were high spots of colour on her cheeks and she was tapping a beat on the steering wheel. They rolled to a stop, and Jack clicked her tongue.

She closed her eyes for a second, composing herself.

"I can't tell you right now. You get to find out with everyone else."

Alex scrabbled with the door handle. It was locked.

"Jack…"

She grabbed his face in her hands, and her eyes looked moist. "Alex, no matter what, promise you love me."

"You know I do Jack…"

"No." she shook her head, tears dropping onto her shirt. "You have to promise me."

"What?"

"Say it." She begged.

"What should I say?"

"Repeat after me…"

Alex suddenly remembered Jack doing this when he was younger, making him swear not to eat the last cookie or do his homework. It was a simple guilt trick.

Alex played along anyway.

Jack spoke slowly.

"I promise…"

"I promise…" Alex repeated.

"…to love you Jack…"

"…to love you Jack…"

"…no matter what you say or do…"

"…no matter what you say or do…"

"…and I will keep myself safe to the best of my ability…"

"…and I will keep myself safe to the best of my ability…"

"…and I will never forget my family…"

"…and I will never forget my family…"

"…and how much they love me…"

"…and how much they love me…"

"…and how much I love them."

"…and how much I love them."

Alex felt a bit stupid. This was one of Jack's more somber promises he had made. _The _most somber.

She pulled him into a rough hug, then left the car. Alex scrambled all the way out this time. Whatever was going on, it was beyond total shit storm.

*HIVZHIVZHIVZ*

Jack smoothed the front of her shit, hoping the darker spots wouldn't show. She stole a glance at Mrs. Jones. The woman had a remarkable composure that Jack envied. To be so calm, when faced with this? How was it possible?

Mrs. Jones walked to the front of the room. Jack meekly followed. The room might have been a storage room or an indoor shooting range. It had concrete wall and rows of folding metal chairs. Jack saw Alex sitting near the front, crammed between business suits. He looked horribly out of place. There was a flash of camo near the back. Her feet became rooted to the spot. Mrs. Jones hurried over.

"What's wrong?"

"Why the hell are the SAS here?"

"The SAS and the SBS. But this not important. You are the only expert here. All I have is files."

"I was a office worker!" Jack hissed. "I never killed…"

Mrs. Jones gripped her shoulder. "You are the best hope we have."

Jack swallowed.

She walked to the front, Mrs. Jones next to her. There was a podium, and Mrs. Jones stepped up to it.

The microphone cracked a little at the deputy coughed slightly. Someone shifted, and a chair scraped across the floor. Jack flinched at the noise. _Like nails on chalkboards…_

"Hello. Thank you all for coming. I know this is short notice, and many of you are confused. A code has been called today, a serous code that has never been called before. It was instated during the Spanish Influenza Epidemic, although what we are preparing against has been around as long as people."

A blue screen appeared on the wall behind her. Somehow MI6 had set up a projector. They were going to show pictures. Jack felt ill.

"This room is packed with the best Britain has to offer. MI6, our sister branch MI5, the SAS, the SBS, the Metropolitan Police. "

Jack felt her hands clench. How many people?

"For those of you who know our codes," Mrs. Jones continued, we have called a code Omega Zada."

A man wailed in the back. People twisted to look at him.

"You have to be lying!" He screamed. "There is no way! The minimum has to be two hundred thousand! Two hundred thousand! How can that many be wandering around without our notice?"

"Please calm down. You're not helping matters."

"Bullocks! Tell me right now, how did we miss it?"

"I'm going to get to that!" Mrs. Jones snapped, and for the first time Jack saw fear in her eyes. This was terrible. They were going to lose control, and they haven't even said the bad news.

The man took a deep gasping breath and sat abruptly down.

Mrs. Jones clicked a button. "An average of ten million Americans go missing every year. Fifty thousand are never found. We estimate twenty each year are infected. Here, in Britain, we have an average of ten."

She clicked a button. The blue square changed.

A picture of a couple smiling at a camera was shown. They were on a beach, the ocean to their left, sand stretching to the right and behind them.

"This was taken with a high speed camera with two frames per second."

The pictures jumped forward. A homeless girl appeared behind them. She looked very sick, with sunken eyes and a hanging jaw. As the pictures flashed up, the girl approached the couple. Her mouth moved and the woman slowly turned. Jack closed her eyes. She knew what was going to happen. It was the basic rookie video. Because the camera had been on a tripod, it had captured everything. The girl would reach the couple in five…four…three…two…

There were sounds of disgust.

Jack opened her eyes. She looked at the image. It was blank now except for a smear of red on the sand. She looked back into the crowd. The expression ranged from sickened to disbelief.

Mrs. Jones turned off the screen. The wall was blank once more.

"Here we have Jack Starbright, an American who has dealt with these type of situations before."

Jack stepped toward the podium. Alex's eyes were probably drilling into her, but she didn't look at him. It wasn't personal. It was better not to look at anyone right now. If this really was a Omega Zada, everyone in this room might die. Jack cleared her throat.

"My name is Jack Starbright. I worked at the NSA for a few years as a temp to pay for hobbies during high school. They usually don't hire teenagers, but my dad worked there. I sorted files mostly. Filling in when people were sick. That kind of thing."

Jack looked at Mrs. Jones. She was rambling. Rein it in.

"Anyway, I looked at a file I wasn't supposed to. You know how it is." She smiled weakly. "If it says TOP SECRET, you have to open it."

There were a few mummers. Get to the point.

"Well…right… there had been an infected child. The report was the…removal…of the child and the editing of medical records and press releases and things like that. And it had pictures." Jack licked her lips nervously. "I told my dad and was moved to the Dead Head Division." She paused awkwardly. "We were really called the Infection Removal Unit. I mostly edited papers. I never saw one face to face. I do know there are some basic rules."

She has the room's full attention.

"Ok. Fist they are dead." There was some chuckling. "No really. They don't need to breath or stop or are distracted in anyway. Explosions only work with lots of fire. These guys eventually dry out and burn like leaves. They light up quick, but move around lighting up anything nearby. So if an area is densely populated with them, a whole city could burn down. Second. Senses. I'm not sure if they can taste anything. Their hearing is slightly less than that of us. Again, drying out- it messes up your eardrums too. What next? Sight… again, I guessing from paperwork, they can't see too well if their eyes get scratched up. This reminds me… No pain. Nothing! If you stab it in the knee, it will just shuffle along. The rabbet and the turtle, remember?" There were a few nods in the audience. "Sorry, guys. We are the rabbits. Only one difference. If the turtle gets you, you're lunch. The big danger: smell. They can sniff out exactly were you are. The only thing that throws them off is rotting meat, but it has to be putrid. "

Jack was on a roll.

"Third, weapons. You SAS people like your guns, right?"

There were a few cheers from the back.

"What happens when you run out of ammunition?"

There was silence. People were beginning to look worried. The doubters were starting to look around.

"This meeting. Omega Zada, is called is the threat of them is so great that civilization might not last. No electricity. Do you know what that means? Medical advancements? Gone. Military advancements? Gone. Technological advancements? Gone. Commutation advancements? Gone. You are looking at the middle ages folks! Weapons! The M1 Carbine is what we used. It's from WW II, so there are a lot to go around. You need a slow semi-automatic weapon. Only the best shots can use sniper rifles. You must be able to hit the head every single time. After guns are blades. The best thing about blades is they don't need reloading. Machete, ax, and hatchet are common. Trench spikes are easy to get your hands on. Swords need to be carefully selected. The Japanese katana works extremely well. The Roman Gladius and Japanese Ninjite are good for close quarters. Blunt instruments, such as a crowbar or Morning star also serve good blows. Hammers are slightly more useful. You can't break open a door with a Morning star, can you? They can only be killed by a sufficient blow to the head or decapitation. Broken backs will limit their movement, but a quick kill is necessary for survival. Slings are also fantastic, but only in the hands of expects. "

Jack stuttered to a stop. She had nothing left. She twisted her hands. "Umm… that's it."

Alex stood up. He looked ferrous. He glared at Jack. "So, you're saying we have to fight zombies?"

Jack ducked her head quickly, once.

Alex threw himself back in his seat, like they were at home and had just started dinner, rather than talk about the impending end of the world.

"Great." He huffed. "We are screwed."

The man who had reacted so badly in the beginning shoved up his hand. He waived it for emphasis.

"Yes?"

He stood up. _Is everyone going to do this when they ask a question?_ Jack thought.

"How severe is it?"

"How severe is the infection spread?"

"You mean how far?"

He nodded.

Jack shrugged and looked at Mrs. Jones.

"Mrs. Jones pursed her lips. "It will take a month."

There were sounds of protest. "We have no way to stop it. Wouldn't you think we would have tried already?"

The man was still standing. "How fast does the infection spread?"

"Between one hour to a few days."

He sat down.

A police officer sprang up. "Is anyone immune?"

"No," Jack quickly responded. "Not that the NSA knows of. You don't want to test yourself though."

The officer sat own.

Jack gripped the podium. "Any more questions?" No one moved. "Look, I know it's scary, but what you don't know could kill you. Knowledge is power."

Jack was impressed. Somehow they they went through the basics. Short hair is best. Travel is small groups, no alone or in mobs. If you have an extremely secure place, stay. If not get to one. Trust is essential. Work together, even with people you didn't like. They could know more than you. Conserve water, and perishable foods. Pick up canned goods on the way. Keep moving, until you hit a safe location. THEN STOP. Never underestimate a child (That was thrown in for Alex's benefit).

Then came the one question Jack never wanted to an answer.

"What if it's our family?"

"As in, what if one of your family is turned?"

The women nodded.

Jack chewed her lip.

"you have to shoot them." She felt tears building up.

The woman gasped. "I couldn't do that!"

Jack looked her right in the eye. "Yes, you could. You need to remember, whatever they were, _who_ever they were is gone. There's nothing left. I promise you won't be hurting someone you love. And trust me, " Jack's voice hardened, " you won't love them with flesh hanging down their chin and peeling skin and ulcers and bone poking through and scratched cataracts. Trust me. There's no one home."

The woman sat down, her lower lip trembling.

Jack stood straighter. "Any more questions?"

Alex spoke up. "Will the public be told?"

Mrs. Jones answered. "Yes, next week."

Alex shot her a mistrusting glance "Do you promise?"

"I do, Alex."

He crossed his arms. "So what do we do until then? Pretend like nothing's happening?"

Mrs. Jones sighed. "We are shutting the Chunnel down tomorrow. If we can contain the island, we might not have to deal with anything. We could stay contained and isolated."

Alex laughed. "It won't work."

Mrs.,. Jones looked peeved. "Why now?" Now she had crossed her arms.

Alex threw his open. "one people will figure out Britain is contained, nothing will stop them from coming. They'll land ships illegally up and down the coasts. What will you do then? Run a police state? Shoot anyone caught smuggling in?"

Mrs. Jones shook her head. "No. WE will have people go though quarantine. That's all we can do."

"besides closing off the island"

"Besides closing off the island."

Jack looked over the crowd. She had never seen a more miserable group of people. "If there are no more questions, I think we can wrap this meeting up." It sounded stupid, to say normal things when everything else was so far from normal. _But that, _she supposed_ is how people keep sane_. Do those stupid little normal things.

There was the usual mass as people stood to leave, and Alex crossed quickly to the front, towards Jack.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Jack knew there was more to that question. He was asking, _Why did you lie to me?_

But she didn't. She hoped she didn't.

"I dealt with Class A problems. Four -maybe, five-times a year a few people in my department would find one, kill, it , burn it, bag it, and I would sign it in and the news would get a story in about an hour about a serial killer or a rapist who went too far or something. I just sat at a desk all day protecting people from their loved ones who had turned into psycho-human-munching-freaks. Could you forgive me if I wanted to leave it all behind?"

Alex lowered his head a blushed. "Sorry."

"No, no." Jack absentmindedly rubbed his head. "You're good. I'm just a bit worked up."

She looked around the room. "It's been a bad day for everyone."


	3. Chapter 3

THE longest chapter yet. I hope it doesn't disappoint.

Umm... I don't own Alex Rider. AH would have to be bat shit crazy to do this to his MC.

Oh... Some suggestions:

Dead Snow, Dawn of the Dead, Day of the Dead and Land of the Dead, just for starters

* * *

_Mrs. Jones had said a month, _Alex chanted to himself. _A month. A whole bloody month. Of course it was too good to be true._

He hurried down the street. The hammer thumped on his leg. Three weeks ago he never would have thought it would come to this. A shadow moved, and he flinched. _I just need to get to the store…_

_Alex had gone right back to school, a doctor's note clutched tightly in his hand. The front desk worker hadn't even looked up as he walked in. He dropped the note on the desk. She grunted. He went back to class. _

_It was hard to focus. His mind kept wandering. Ms. Graett ignored him. She must have figured it was no use. It was a Friday after all._

_Alex moved to his last class, typing. It was really a glorified free period. Held in the library, it was hailed as the mother of all slackers. Tom flopped down next to Alex on the couch. _

_"Where did you go?"_

_Alex looked at the ceiling, feeling his neck stretch. "To the doctor's."_

_"Really?" Tom sounded surprised. It was almost funny._

_Alex looked at the light. He was sure it was burning his eyes. Right now he couldn't care less. He blinked and black spots danced in front of his vision._

_Tom waived his hand in front of Alex's face. "That's not good for you, mate."_

_Now it was Alex's turn. "Really?"_

_"Yah. It burns your eyes and stuff." Tom paused. "What did you go to the doctor's for?"_

_"My appendix."_

_"Oh."_

_They sat on couch, silent. There was a periodic tapping of computer keys, but some students were holed up on chairs, listening on iPods or pretending to do homework. Most were sleeping._

_Alex looked up in annoyance as a student at one on the nearer consoles began to bang frantically on his keyboard. The student looked frantic. He pressed some more keys. The printer began to spit out papers. Alex watched in amusement as the student used all the papers. It looked like he was making fliers. The student grabbed the stack and tried to make post haste out of the library. Ms. Goldbloom stopped him. There was nothing golden or youthful about her. Reaching for the two hundred mark, she was more infamous for her smell rather than anything else._

_"What are you doing?" Her dry voice caused one of the students to look briefly up from their nap. They quickly dropped their head again._

_"I'm…I'm…" He stammered. Tom stood up and walked over. Alex remained on the couch. He would wait, and watch._

_Tom causally threw his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Nick and I were going to put up flyers for the chess club."_

_Ms. Goldbloom glared. "And who is in this chess club?" she hissed. Her loud voice echoed over the still room. Everyone looked up. She had not had her breakfast, and this make her cranky. Alex was sure that wouldn't change when… Alex abruptly stopped that thought. It wasn't funny. Nothing was funny anymore._

_He looked over at the three. Alex felt for Nick. Nick in all probability didn't know Tom all that well. And it was no fun to stand too close to Ms. Goldbloom._

_Tom shrugged, milking teenager for all he was worth. "Nick, me, some mates on the rugby team." He paused, as if thinking. "Some girls from football. Oh, and Alex."_

_Ms. Goldbloom looked around. She didn't spot Alex sitting not a meter from her. She leaned towards the boys._

_"That Alex boy is bad news. You'd best stay away from him." She tapped her nose and shuffled to a dark corner, and began sorting some books._

_Tom still had his arm around Nick. He steered him towards where Alex was sitting. Tom stopped in front of Alex as if presenting the Queen. _

_"Nick this is Alex. Alex Rider."_

_Alex gave a bemused wave. Nick blinked._

_Tom hurried on. "Alex, this is Nick."_

_Nick blinked again, and shuffled his papers. "My name isn't Nick."_

_Tom froze. He looked at Nick closely. "Are you sure?"_

_"Yes I'm sure!" Nick snapped._

_If it wasn't so strange, Alex would be laughing._

_"Then what's your name?" Tom sounded a peeved._

_"Dan. My name is Dan Rogers."_

_"Nice to meet you Dan." Tom warmly shook his hand._

_Alex watched. Dan ripped is hand away. One of the papers flittered to the floor._

_He heard Tom and Dan bickering, but ignored them._

_His eyes were riveted to the page. How had the information gotten out? Was it MI5? Or some SAS solider got a few at a pub a blabbed? No, it wasn't even three._

_The slight panic ate it's was up from his stomach and roared into his head. It's heading wasn't hard to miss. **Zombies are coming!** It looked like some shoddily make convention poster, except words from Jack's speech jumped out at him._

**_[Zombies] dry out and burn like leaves. Their hearing is slightly less than that of ours. The big danger: smell. They can sniff out exactly where you are. The only thing that throws them off is rotting meat, but it has to be putrid. . The best thing about blades is they don't need reloading. Machete, ax, and hatchet are common._**

_It was like being punched in the gut. Someone, for whatever reason had leaked. This was major. Alex felt Tom looking at him. Tom picked up a page and read. Dan didn't stop them. Tom's mouth pulled up into a grin._

_"Right!" He laughed._

_Alex just looked at him, and the smile slid off his face… _

The store was a Tesco, and looked empty. Alex was thankful. He hadn't had to kill one yet. Sure he had seen them, from a distance. And had quickly left. A hammer wasn't much good, not matter what Jack said. She had left early that morning, and Alex refused to stay home. Their supplies were dwindling low, and it was better safe than sorry. Alex kept away from the automatic doors. No need to alert anything. He stepped through the gaping hole where the window used to be. Boots crunched on glass.

The glass had been broken inwards, and the jagged edges were covered with…Alex looked away in disgust.

He hurried down the aisles, hammer thumping continuously on his leg. It was starting to get annoying. Jack had taken the machete. Alex didn't think it was fair, but there was little he could say. He had barely made it out of the house anyway. Jack didn't know he had left, so he had to hurry. The refrigerators hummed softly. A bag of dog food had been ripped open. It spilled over the floor. Alex stepped over it. His foot crunched on one. He froze. Hurrying now, he grabbed bread and meat, shoving them into his bag. He was reaching for Rocky Road, Jack's favorite ice cream, when he saw a door move. He set the ice cream back down and pulled out his hammer. He crept toward the **Employees Only** door. The door had a handle. Alex slowly turned it. He began to push it in, but stopped. He had no idea what was behind it. _Know your enemy._ It was a phrase Jack drilled into him every day. _Know them_. Alex let go of the handle, and the door swung in on its own. He took a step back waiting. Shifting from foot to foot, boots squeaking on the tile floor. The refrigerators hummed. A faucet dripped somewhere. Alex waited.

Then he charged, slamming his shoulder into the door. It smashed open. Alex was in the room, and he looked wildly around for a moment. Then something hit him in the face. It was wet, and stung like a thousand needles. His eyes burned. Alex screamed. He thought his face was smelting. _Acid? What good would acid do?_

People were shouting, and Alex felt his eyes being forced open. They hurt. Alex blinked, but fingers held them. His eyes began to water. Something was poured into them. It hurt worse.

A voice spoke. "We need to get him to shut up."

Alex bucked defiantly on the hands holding him down. There was a brief rush if air and Alex felt something heavy connect with his head. It hurt! Alex yelled. The thing hit him again. He blacked out.

_The flyers went up quickly. They covered the school, were no one took them seriously. Fluttering on poles and on shop windows, they mocked Alex. He knew the truth. They were the truth. Mrs. Jones issued a report to BBC. The report was run three days later. Then panic struck. Alex was sitting in English class again. Mr. Beckett tapped his fingers on his desk. He glared around the class._

_"Everyone move your desk out of the way."_

_There were some grumbles._

_"Now!" he snapped. He was clearly in a mood. _

_Alex stood and moved his desk to the side of the room. His classmates followed suit. It was "discussion time" usually reserved for discussing the book the class had just completed. Alex knew what this one was about._

_Mr. Beckett looked down at them, seated on the floor. He seemed to find personal offence in their being there. Other schools in the area had shut down._

_"What do you think of the recent developments?"_

_People shifted, but no one spoke. The report had been honest, in Alex's opinion. It hadn't said 'zombies' outright, but the signs were had to ignore. Warning signs included shambling gait, moaning, text book markers. Yet everyone shied away from the word. As if it was somehow impolite._

_"Anyone?" Mr. Beckett crossed his arms. "If you don't start talking, I will call on you."_

_The students froze. Tom put up his hand. Alex held his breath._

_"Well…sir…the development is…zombies."_

_Some students laughed a little. A girl started whispering to her friend. Mr. Beckett nodded._

_"You're right."_

_The room seemed to have stopped moving. The girl's whisper could suddenly be heard loud and clear._

_"I'm really scared. My brother went…" she looked up, guilty. A blush ran up her cheeks. _

_Mr. Beckett turned to her._

_"Do you want to finish that thought?"_

_The girl shook her head. _

_"Is your brother missing."_

_The girl looked down and shook her head again._

_Mr. Beckett tapped his foot. "Don't lie to me. Is your brother missing?"_

_"Yes." It came out in a whimper… _

There was whimpering not far from Alex now. He tried to open his eyes, and he found he could. His relief quickly turned into panic as he found he could not see. A cloth was wrapped his face. Ales reached up to rip it off. Hands grabbed his wrists. Alex stopped moving.

"You didn't have to smash my head in," he growled.

"Sorry. We thought you were…one of those." A voice said.

"Acid wouldn't have stopped it anyhow. It was a stupid idea."

"It was a stupid idea." The Voice agreed.

"Where am I?" Direct questions wouldn't kill anyone. Well, they might kill him…

"A safe place." The voice tried to sound comforting.

Alex tried to sit up. Hands held him down. "Where? Are we still in London?"

The voice laughed. "No! It's not safe. We're somewhere near Kent."

"Kent?" Alex felt sick. Jack was going to be beyond worry… "How along have I been out?"

He knew the answer might be bad. Alex steeled himself.

"Almost three days."

Alex was going to be sick. He shifted sideways and threw up all over the floor. Hands caught him as he almost fell off…the bed?

He was in a bed, in Kent, trapped, blind, and Jack thought he was dead. She would be blaming herself. The hands pushed him back on the bed. Alex let them.

He felt weak. He ran a hand across his mouth. "Who are you?" He rasped.

There was no answer. The person had left the room, most likely to clean up. Alex swung is legs to the side of the bed. The lack of sight made everything harder. He pushed his hands up, sliding inch by inch to the floor.

"No!"

The voice cried too late, and Alex pushed his feet into his vomit. He gagged and stumbled forward. Hands caught him, but they were different hands. Alex jerked back and landed on his butt. It hurt, a lot. Alex yelled.

"Stop being a baby." The Voice said. It sounded amused. Alex glared, but then remembered they wouldn't see his eyes. He huffed instead.

The strange hand ruffled his hair. Alex slapped it away. He heard sounds of scrubbing. The voice was cleaning up. Alex felt guilty.

The strange hand's owner said something, but all Alex caught was _zavoot_. It was Russian for _name_. Alex scrambled for something to say.

He finally came up with something. He hoped it wasn't offensive.

"_Men-ya zavoot Alex._"

The scrubbing stopped.

"You speak Russian?" The voice asked.

Alex shook his head. "Only a little."

The strange voice spoke. Alex realized it was male, and the voice that had comforted him was female.

The woman translated. "You need to keep the bandages on for the rest of the day, then we'll check them."

Alex resisted the urge to rub his eyes. "What exactly did I get hit with?"

There was a pregnant pause.

"I don't know."

Alex nodded. "Okay. I'm sorry about…" he gestured towards the spot he thought the woman was standing by, "but I'm a bit hungry now."

"It's fine." She responded. The man's hands helped Alex to his feet. Alex stumbled forwards, not sure where he was headed. There was a flight of stairs that he almost fell down. It was beyond embarrassing. Then he heard the moaning.

"Shit."

Alex was shaken gently. He took the hint. _Shut up._

He was half dragged towards an unknown destination. His feet slid along the floor. There was another flight of stairs, and the damp air pressed down.

He heard the sounds of a large number of people. He shrank away.

There were soft clicks, and Alex saw a flash of light through the bindings. People had pulled out lights. Then the muttering voices started.

"It's the kid that got acid to the face."

"Poor bloke."

"Don't stare, Jimmy. It's not polite."

"I wonder how messed up his eyes are? Do you think they'll be hanging out?"

Alex was sacred and jumpy. This was a bad combination. He twisted his face towards the last person who had spoken. He took a few steps forward.

"My ears work just fine." He retorted.

There were a few laughs. Alex shook his head. He started to back away. An unfamiliar hand grabbed his arm. Alex lashed out, but his hand caught nothing but air. The laughter grew louder. Alex rotated his arm, and then bit down, hard. He heard a gasp to his right. So the person hold him was behind. Alex kicked back, and was rewarded with an _oof_ and the sound of someone hitting the ground. He was only allowed a second of satisfaction when the beating started.

Alex had no idea how hard it was to fight blind. He only landed every third blow, and most didn't hit their intended mark. The frustration was growing to a dangerous level when someone grabbed his shirt collar and jerked him back.

There were groans all around.

"Leon, we were having a bit of fun!"

The man who had dragged Alex into the basement pulled him backwards. Now Alex had a name to go with a face.

Hands pressed down on his shoulders, and he was forced to sit.

"What?" he snapped. "I was just…"

Leon's hand clamped over his mouth. A door slammed above him. The women was still up there, getting food for him. It she got hurt because of him. There was the patter of feet coming close to the basement. The room seemed to tense.

"All clear!" Alex recognized the woman's voice. He let out a sigh of relief.

Leon patted his head. Alex blushed, embarrassed. It was worse when he tried to walk up the stairs. He tripped twice.

The mocking voice, the person he had bit, called, "Someone has two left feet?"

Alex held back a retort. It was no use replying. He'd just have to wait until the bandages came off. The floor changed from carpet to tile, and Alex's stocking feet slid crazily. Leon helped Alex into a chair. Alex heard people scraping their own seats out. Alex was sure Leon sat to his right. He looked to the left, where he could hear soft breathing. People were chattering, as if this was a group over for dinner.

He stuck out a hand. "Hello. I'm Alex."

The talking stopped. The person next to him breathed slower, as if that would make them disappear. Alex dropped his hand and snorted.

"I can hear you breathing." Alex shrugged. "So there's no use pretending you're not there."

The breathing became louder. Whoever was sitting next to him was becoming scared.

Alex held up his hands. "Look, I'm not going to hurt you. I can't even see. "

The person sucked in their breath and held it. Alex gave up. It was getting ridiculous.

"Fine. I'll leave you alone."

Alex looked away from the person and felt for the table. He began to rub his hand across it in claiming circles.

He stared hard at the table, trying to see through his wrappings.

"How do you do it?"

The voice came from in front of him. Alex assumed they were sitting across the table.

Alex looked up. "How do I do what?"

There was a pause. Alex assumed the person shrugged.

The person spoke slowly. "Well…you know…look at people…"

"What?" Alex was confused. How could he look at people if he couldn't see?

The person shifted, but didn't answer.

"Can I have your name?" Alex asked.

"What?" the person sounded shocked.

"What. Is. Your. Name?" Alex knew it sounded mean, but he didn't want to scare the person. Alex kept his head pointed in the direction he thought the person was in. he was ignoring everyone else now.

"My name is Hannah."

"Hello Hannah." Alex replied sarcastically. "My name is Alex."

Hannah didn't reply. Alex cocked his head. He could here whispering.

Alex cleared his throat. "Usually people say 'hello' back."

"Hello, Alex." Hannah's voice was very small.

Alex leaned forward. He opened his mouth, but was cut off by a shriek. His head snapped automatically in the direction of the noise and he lunched to his feet. Alex's chair crashed to the ground. He heard the sound of running feet. Alex threw out his arm and stopped the person from entering the room.

"What's going on?" the person asked.

Alex recognized it as the woman who had helped him, Leon's friend.

"I don't know." Alex began o scan the room.

"Then what…"

Alex cut her off. "Shut up."

He took a few steps forward, checking the ground. He swung his head, moving quickly towards where he had heard the shriek. Alex lunged. His arms wrapped around someone's chest, and he pulled them to the ground. Alex kneed them between the legs. He quickly straddled them and grabbed their jaw. His other hand held their hair in his other hand. Then he pulled his arm back… and Leon grabbed his wrist. Alex was pulled to his feet.

"Get off me!" He struggled on the grip.

Leon spoke quickly, and the woman translated.

"We do not hurt our own."

Alex stopped pulling away. "Fine." He sighed, and dropped his head. He wasn't planning anything. He felt stupid and weak and childlike. And he had over reacted.

Leon dropped his hands. Alex took a few steps towards the person he had jumped.

Alex wasn't sure where they were. So he looked straight ahead. "I'm sorry."

The woman was next to him guiding him to his seat. The breather quickly moved away.

As the woman pulled her hand away, Alex grabbed it. "I don't know your name."

The woman gently detached his fingers. "I'm Anna." Then she left.

Alex sat at the table, being pinned by angry stares. Then a man next to Hannah spoke.

"Are you okay?"

Alex nodded tightly. "I'm fine."

The man spoke again. "That was beyond impressive. I mean, in the cellar, I thought it was dumb luck, but now… you were good. I mean…the way you took down Jeff…no one's ever got one up on him…and you can't even see!"

Alex shrugged.

"I'm Darren, by the way."

Alex nodded.

The silence was quickly broken by Anna's voice. "Food's here."

Alex heard a plate or bowl being placed in front of him, and Anna put a hunk of bread in his hand.

"Thanks." He whispered. Anna patted his shoulder and left.

Leon spoke, and Alex listen carefully. Leon repeated himself a few times. Then Alex got what Leon was saying. It was soup. And the spoon was on the right side. Alex slid his right hand forward, and fumbled with his spoon. It took him a few tries to get it in his bowl, and even longer to bring anything to his mouth. The soup kept sliding off. But Alex soon got the hang of it. When the soup was done Alex ate his bread. It was garlic bread, and odd combination with meat soup. But it was food none the less.

Hannah spoke up. "So, Alex…"

Alex looked up from his bread. He heard her mutter "So creepy…" but she soon spoke up. "Where are you from?"

Alex swallowed. "Well, Hannah, when a mummy and a daddy love each other very much…" he let his voice trail off.

Hannah didn't respond. Alex leaned forward slightly. "Hannah…" He tried again. "Hannah…That was a joke."

All he got in response was a sniff. The person to his left spoke. "I thought it was funny."

Alex looked at them. "Oh, so you can talk."

"Of course I can!"

Alex huffed. "You didn't respond when I spoke to you earlier."

"Why would I?"

Alex glared, and had to once again remind himself that no one could see. "Common courtesy?"

"It's had to talk to a blind kid who can look right at you."

Alex crossed his arms. "I'm not blind. I just took a bucket of acid to the face."

The table quieted again. Alex just wasn't the best conversationalist tonight. He resisted the urge to rub his face.

"Sorry. I'm not in my best from right now."

"It's fine!" Hannah piped up. There were some mummers in agreement.

Alex shoved more bread into his mouth. A scream split the quiet, and Alex almost chocked. He shoved himself up from the table and ran towards the noise. Despite stumbling a few times, he was in front. Anna suddenly slammed into him, sobbing.

"It's at the door! It's at the door!"

Alex pushed her to the side. He wasn't being rational. He was in no condition to fight. He couldn't see, and I he got bit…

There was a soft moan. Alex turned his head. A soft breeze rushed past his face. Muffled footfalls came towards him. Alex tensed. He was scrabbling for something to do. Then he chose the most forward action. Alex ran forward and jumped.

Alex heard Darren yell, but ignored it. His fingers wrapped around the thing's throat. A second later Alex realized he didn't know how many there were. He'd just have to hope for the best. Alex pulled it inside and pushed it in front of him. It hit a wall with a dull thump. Alex squeezed tighter. A scrabbling hands clutched his forearm. It was the same move the stranger had tired in the basement. But now Alex reacted much differently. He twisted to the side and slammed his arm into the thing's elbow. He was rewarded with a dry crack. Then he pulled up until the shoulder dislocated. With a heave, Alex was behind the thing. From there it was a simple matter to grab the forehead and beak it's neck. Alex heard it land with a thump. He staggered forward and shut the door. His shaking hands slid the dead bolt home.

He turned towards where he thought Anna was. He could hear her high pitched, gasping breaths.

Alex stepped forward. "Anna? Are you alright?"

Darren answered. "She's not bloody alright? She almost got bitten! Then you show up and practically tear it apart before you finally get rid of it!"

Another voice joined in. "You brought it inside! What were you thinking!"

The screaming continued. Alex finally threw up his hands.

"I'm sorry! I'm so so sorry!" The sarcasm stopped the yelling cold. "If you haven't noticed, I can't see. And that complicates killing the undead a bit."

Alex crossed his arms. "Anna."

"Yes?"

Alex gestured to his eyes. "Can I take the damned thing off now?"

Anna talked to Leon for a moment. There was a pause. Alex assumed she nodded. He ripped the bindings off.


	4. Chapter 4

And a new chapter! YES! :D

* * *

The meat was lumped into a large steel bowl. Alex looked at it blankly. Hannah nudged him with her elbow.

"Come on _Sasha." She grinned wickedly._

As Alex was the only one who knew Russian in the house besides Anna, Leon had taken to talking to Alex for long periods of time. It didn't matter to Alex, who welcomed a chance to focus on something besides worrying for Jack. The down side was that Leon called Alex _Sasha, the Russian nickname for Alexander. And Hannah enjoyed it._

Alex glared at her. The sunglasses he was forced to wear also added to the teasing. He hadn't been able to look at himself in the mirror yet. He shook his head.

"Does anything make you happy?" he asked irritably.

Hannah nodded sagely. "Sure."

She shoved her hands into her own bowl. There were four bowls lined up on the counter. Two other women stood in front of their respective bowls. Hannah kneaded her meat. Alex looked into his bowl.

"_Sasha," she stage-whispered, "you snapped a moaners neck. Don't tell me your sacred to get your hands dirty now."_

One of the women giggled. Alex jerked his head to the side. She stopped. Alex felt a brief flicker of satisfaction.

"Come_ on Sasha." Hannah ribbed._

Alex rolled up his sleeves, and jammed his hands into the dead cow. It was _cold. Alex jumped back. This was all Leon's fault. He could have been out getting food. Instead he was stuck in the kitchen._

"You need to keep moving you hands…" the rounder woman said. "Sorry. I don't know your name." she paused awkwardly. "Is Sasha you name?"

Alex shoved his hands back into the bowl. "No, my name is Alex."

Hannah nodded. "I call him Sasha. It annoys him. Therefore, it makes me happy."

The plump woman nodded. "Well, we all can't be Raiders, can we? Now, Alex, keeping moving your hands. Good. I'm Kate, and you'd bet do what I say."

Alex didn't respond.

They worked in silence for a while. His hands were becoming numb. Hannah huffed beside him. Alex had learnt to hate that noise. It usually foreshadowed being asked an embarrassing question.

He wasn't wrong.

"Alex," she asked. "Have you ever kissed a girl."

Alex stared at her. Hannah was looking deep into her bowl.

Alex shook his head. "No."

There was no response. Blessed quiet.

"Well…" Hannah drew out the word like a fish on a line. "Have you ever kissed a boy/."

"No." Alex kept his voice level. Honestly, where did she get these questions?

"Okay." Alex knew she was going to think of something else. He kneaded the meat. To his surprise, it was becoming softer.

Hannah was still thinking of a question. Kate beat her to it.

"Alex?"

Alex looked up unhappily. What now?

"Do you have anyone left?"

Alex's hands stopped moving. "I'm…I'm not sure."

Hannah looked up. "What do you mean, 'not sure'? Either their alive, or their not. "

Alex slammed his fist into the bowl. The meat gave with a slurp. The taller woman moved away from the table. She picked up some bottles and started pouring dry power into her bowl.

He ignored her.

"For lack of a better term, I was kidnapped." Alex had no idea how much they knew, or how much they needed to know. "It was an accident. I was in the wrong place at the wrong time."

Hannah shrugged. She made a ball out of her meat and then pressed it flat. Alex saw at she had also added some power to her meat. Hannah handed him the bottle.

"Put some spices in."

Alex did as he was told. He mix the meat some more. It was now gritty and his skin started it itch. He sneezed.

"The garlic is pretty powerful stuff." Hannah whispered. "Don't breath too much in."

Alex nodded to show he had heard. "Why are you here?"

Hannah pursed her lips. "This is my house."

Alex was surprised.

"Kate is my mum," she continued, "and my dad's in the raiding party today. They take in anyone they can. Which includes you, I guess."

Alex glared at her. It was a relief to be able to do that and get a reaction. Hannah glared back.

"I'm perfectly useful."

Kate rapped him on the head with a ladle. Alex jumped. "I'm sure you are sonny. Put your meat on the tray. Then you can start with the bread."

Alex opened his mouth to respond. The ladle connected again. "No back talk."

Hannah giggled. Her head received a sharp _crack._

Kate crossed her arms. "Not a word out of either of you. Get to work."

Alex carried his bowl over to a tray and scooped his meat onto it. Then he copied Hannah, shaping it into a loaf. Meat loaf. Now it made sense.

It was becoming boring, the hours spent in the kitchen.

Hannah and Alex had been left alone. Kate and the spice lady had left; as they had more important things to do than cook.

Hannah was busily mixing the dough for bread. Alex watched her.

She tossed her hair back. "This is boring."

Alex nodded. She would keep talking. He hadn't said much all day.

"I mean…I miss school. How crazy is that? I miss normality. I miss my friends…" she looked down. "I miss people. You know?"

Alex shook his head. He was surprised to see that she was crying. Hannah wiped the tears away. "Sorry."

"It's fine."

"I wish… I wish I could sing…." Hannah shook her head. "It seems silly, doesn't it?"

Alex shrugged. "You can sing."

Hannah scraped some dough off of her hands.

She took a deep breath.

"_I never loved somebody fully /always one foot on the ground," she belted out, __"and by protecting my heart truly/ I got lost in the sounds/I hear in my mind all these voices/ I hear in my mind all these words/ I hear in my mind all this music."_

Hannah stopped. She was blushing. "That's what I miss."

Alex pulled some dough out of her bowl. "What do you miss?"

"No caring…no" Hannah shook her head. "I miss being carefree…"

Alex shaped the dough into a loaf.

She continued. "Isn't that the most awful thing you've ever heard?"

"No." Alex laughed. "I think world domination beats that."

"Oh." Hannah seemed to be at a loss of what to say. "But normal people don't think about world domination."

"That probably why it's only tried by crazy people." Alex muttered.

"And then the government stops them! Like a James Bond movie!" Hannah tossed her wet lump of dough into the air. It became stuck to the ceiling.

"Nice." Alex said dryly. "Want a ladder to get it down?"

He could hear footsteps approaching.

Hannah shook her head. "Nope. I have to go...to the bathroom." She dashed out of the room.

And left him to the wolves.

Leon walked in, balancing a stack of canned soups. "_The raiders are back. Go help them unload."_

Alex quickly left, not wanting to be there when the dough fell off the ceiling. He walked down a corridor. The house was huge, practically a mansion. There were four rooms for sleeping, full of blankets and mattresses. The front hall had been filled with cardboard boxes. Alex could seen loaves of bread in one, fish in another. Hannah was busily unloading dog food.

Alex moved over to help. "Are there any dogs?"

Hannah hefted a bag with a grunt. "No, this is for emergencies."

Alex hauled a bag after her. He was surprised when they went into the basement. It was a large open space the size of the house, all concrete and wooden beams. The basement had been divided into rooms, one of with Hannah stepped into. Alex gasped. It was filled from floor to ceiling with pounds of dog food and MREs.

"This is ridiculous." Alex muttered.

A hand crushed his shoulder.

"No, it's not." A voice growled. "We are being prepared."

Hannah looked up from where she was storing Eukanuba. "Jeff, leave him alone."

Alex remembered that name. Wasn't Jeff the man he had tackled the first night here?

The hand released Alex's shoulder. "I'll let you go this time, but if you pull any funny business…" Jeff trailed of threateningly.

Alex couldn't resist a jibe. "What? I'll have to meet your mother?"

Jeff growled.

Alex turned to face the man. "Or worse? Will I have to…"

Alex's mouth dropped open. How the hell was he here?

Jeff didn't recognize Alex, and let him and Hannah pass. The two teens hurried up stairs to help unload more food.

When they got there, however, Leon pulled Alex to the side. He smiled reassuringly. Alex was immediately on guard.

"_The men want your help."_

Alex looked over to where Leon was pointing. They were a tough looking group of men, a little older than himself. Alex walked over. They were conversing, not paying him any mind.

"Hello."

One of the men glared at him. "What's with the sunglasses?"

Alex shrugged.

The man stood face to face with Alex. His rank breath washed of Alex's face. Alex didn't flinch, but he did winkle his nose. The man's greasy brown hair hung in matted strands.

"What's your problem kid?"

Alex stepped back. "Nothing."

"I think you _do have a problem kid."_

Alex looked around. Where was Hannah when he needed her? Or Darren? Leon would be welcome at this time too. The people nearest were averting their eyes. Was this some kind of test? Alex wasn't sure if he would pass.

Alex squared his shoulders. "Maybe you're the one with a problem."

The man looked at him stupidly.

"You really need to exercise the muscle between your ears."

"Are you calling me stupid?" The man snapped.

"No."

"You _are calling me stupid."_

"No."

"I'll show you stupid!"

Alex was truly annoyed. "I'm looking at it right now." Alex crossed his arms, and a small part of him wondered if cabin fever had set in. he was not acting smart. "Listen, Stinky. Can I call you Stinky?" Alex paused to nod. "Good." Alex gestured to the people busily working only a meter away. "You may scare them, but you don't scare me."

Stinky moved suddenly. Alex felt the fist hit him in the face, and his head snapped to the side. There wasn't much force behind it. He still fell to the ground. A boot caught Alex in the stomach, and he curled in on himself. Arms wrapped around Alex's waist and pulled him up. Alex turned his head to the side and bit the arm that held him. The person swore and Alex snapped his head backward into the face behind him. Once…twice…on the third hit the arms relaxed and Alex stumbled forward. The back of his head was throbbing. He had somehow lost the sunglasses and the light hurt his eyes. Alex squinted in the light.

Stinky was not amused. The little punk had fought back. No one fought back before. For a second Stinky was at a loss. What should he do? His group was the best moaner reduction force on this side of London. They were never supposed to lose.

Alex's head was spinning. The dull ache had spiked and his eyes were streaming. He saw Stinky make a gesture and two others stepped forward. Alex groaned. He could _really use some backup. There nearby box was full of guns and there was a long stick. Alex grabbed the stick. It was about three and a half feet and very thin. The second Alex picked it up he knew it was worthless for smacking. Stinky grinned._

"Still feel brave kid?"

Alex swayed slightly. He thought he saw someone leave the room. He hoped they were going to get him help. Stinky stepped forward and Alex kicked. Not at Stinky, but at the box. Guns slid on the wooden floor and bullets rolled like marbles. There was a large amount of knives. Alex even saw some arrows. He grabbed the closest handgun. Stinky bent down and plucked a knife off the floor.

"The gun's empty kid? What ya gonna do?"

In response Alex spread out his feet. The room was swaying slightly. Alex had a feeling that it was not supposed to do that. He stumbled backwards a few feet. The door was behind him. Alex hurried towards it. He had to get away…

Stinky slashed out with the knife. His swing was stopped by the punk. The blade had been caught in the trigger guard. The boy looked at Stinky with unfocused eyes and twisted the gun. Stinky felt his writs break. It hurt. Stinky swore. The boy swayed slightly and held up the gun.

Stinky grinned. "It's unloaded kid."

The punk looked at the gun. He seemed puzzled. "Oh."

There was his chance! Stinky jumped forward… and felt an exploding pain in his mouth.

Alex knew it was a bad idea. Too much could go wrong. When the man said the gun was unloaded, Alex had honestly forgotten. Then Stinky had lunged, and Alex thrust the gun at his mouth. Alex was sure that chipped a few teeth.

Stinky rocked on his feet for a moment, and then crashed to the floor. Alex was about to join him when strong arms held him up. The stick was still in his grasp. Alex looked up (when had he gotten on the floor?) when a hand closed his eyes.

"It's alright Cub," someone said above him. "You're going t be fine."


	5. Chapter 5

_Yes, and new chapter... but don't get too excited. I think it's a bit choppy and slow..._.

* * *

Bump, Bump

Jack gripped the sides of her seat tightly. The bus rumbled slowly up the road. Cold rain beat down on the windows. It was suffocating hot inside. Outside was gray and dark. Murky things moved past. They seemed to be swimming in the distance, through the running glass. Jack couldn't tell what the shapes were.

She fiddled with the machete that sat on her lap. Mr. Blunt sat a few seats away. Jack considered killing him for a moment. There was a few downsides…one, she was dispensable. Two, it would take a long time to get up there and safely escape. And three, no one wanted a zombie Blunt…

Although, Jack wouldn't mind killing him twice.

Jack was protecting this bus. Well, she was part of a _team_ that was protecting the bus. They had picked her up after she had fallen off the deep end. Jack shuttered as she remembered the state she had been. When she has returned to find the house empty, to find Alex _gone_…

Mrs. Jones sat next to Jack, surprising her, which caused Jack to scratch a thin line along the plastic. Jack stared at the thin blue curl.

"What do you want?"

Mrs. Jones looked out the window. There was a dull thump as the bus rolled over something (someone?).

Jack tried again, turning of face the woman. "What do you want?"

Mrs. Jones seemed to blink away a tear. At the very least, the woman rubbed her face. "I'm sorry for your loss."

"He's alive." Her hands tightened on the long blade.

Mrs. Jones looked away. "I hope so."

Jack lurched to her feet, but stumbled as the bus hit another (bump? Person? Garbage?)

"You could have helped!" Jack hissed. She was aware that people were starting to look. "Blocked the damn leak for starters! What were you thinking?"

Mrs. Jones stood as well. "What could I have done?"

"I don't know," snapped Jack in response. "You could have protected him! You protected Blunt well enough."

That shut her up. Jack watched in satisfaction as Mrs. Jones scrambled for a response.

"I didn't think so." Jack flopped back down into her seat. She began to sharpen her blade. Mrs. Jones pressed her skirt to her legs and prepared to sit down again.

Jack looked at her.

"That seat's taken."

Mrs. Jones didn't argue.

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Alex looked at Jeff. They were in the backyard, targets set up a few meters away. A few moaners rattled the chain-link fence. One was missing an arm. It shook the fence with its one arm, rattling it. Alex tried to ignore them.

"This is crazy." Hannah said.

Alex had to agree. Hannah was watching, off to the side. She fiddled with one of the arrows.

"At least it's an idea." Jeff shot back.

Alex had to agree with that too.

He was holding the long thin sick he had acquired. It seemed safe.

Jeff shook his head. "Too much could go wrong. Hairline cracks, bad quality. Remember: …"

Hannah nodded. "Yes. This is a high powered weapon, and is extremely dangerous… blah blah blah…" Hannah moved her hand up and now like a mouth. She paused and shot a smirk at Jeff. "Can we try it now?"

He shook his head. "I want Cub to try first."

Alex backed up. "You're kidding." He held the stick out. "You can try. What if it breaks? The splinters could blind me! I have enough eye troubles as it is."

Alex no longer had to wear the sunglasses, but he refused to look at himself in a mirror. It was enough to rub his eyes and feel the scars. Alex rubbed his hands along the stick. Jeff wordlessly held out a thin string. Alex took it. It was not stretchy or flexible.

"Just string it already," Hannah muttered.

Alex looped the string on the bottom end, and then tried to do the same on the other end. There was a problem. The string was shorter than the stick.

Jeff sighed. "Put the end you already attached the string to on your foot."

Alex did so. He felt a bit stupid.

"Now, bend the top towards you."

Alex pulled hard, the tip of the stick getting closer and closer. With a final heave, Alex slipped the loop over the end. Jeff looked over Alex's handiwork.

"Good," Jeff said, rubbing his chin. "Now do it again."

Alex's arms were aching after his twelfth stringing of the weapon. Hannah was poking a moaner with a stick. It was a bit gross, and Alex was trying to ignore her. Jeff soon called her over.

"Hannah!"

She bounded up, after poking the stick into the zombie a final time.

"Can I try?"

Alex handed her the weapon. Hannah quickly strung it. She pulled an arrow from somewhere and fired. _Smack! _Jeff grinned as Hannah swore and dropped the bow. The arrow had buried itself into the ground. Alex ran forward and picked it up.

He handed it back to Hannah. "Here."

She reached for the bow.

"No." Jeff shook his head. "You have to try." He turned to Hannah. "And you, you jumped in too soon. Practice is the most important thing."

Alex watched as Jeff demonstrated. "Look at the back of the arrow. This cleft? It's called a notch. You fit it into the string. See?"

The two teens nodded. Hannah had seen how wrong she had been getting it.

"Then," Jeff continued, "pull back and sight down the shaft. The shaft is the stick part."

Jeff relaxed the draw. Then he picked a rectangle of leather. He shook it in Hannah's face.

"You're arm hurt?"

Hannah nodded, and Alex saw a welt forming on her forearm. It looked painful.

"This is an arm guard. It stops the string from slapping you in the wrist." Jeff slipped it on. He drew the bow again. He released, and the arrow hissed towards the target. It hit with a deep thud, the arrowhead driving into the wood.

Jeff shook his head. "This is crap. It's the size of a recurve, but shaped like a longbow. I'll get proper one when I go out later." He unstrung the bow and tossed it a Hannah. She caught it, surprised.

"The best way to get a proper bow is to practice, and build up your draw strength."

Alex watched Jeff walk towards the house. He picked up the bow Jeff had left on the ground.

"I'd guess we'd better…"

Hannah nodded glumly. "Practice. I know."

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Jack looked out the window. The rain had stopped, and she guessed they were somewhere in Yorkshire.. Nowhere else would have this much country. She remembered what Ian had said. "Suburbs are for children and vets."

She wished he was here now. He would know what to do. The fiasco when Alex had come home with the stupid flyer clutched in his hand… She almost lost it then. How had it been leaked? It gave more people time to prepare. And the BBC was willing to help too. That was good. Jack leaned into the aisle and looked out the windscreen. The bus was chugging along a motorway, swerving around cars and lorries. People shambled in-between them. Some lay still on the ground, seeming a rest. Jack saw a torso-head combo dragging itself along. It had no legs. She looked away. The bus inched along a section of road that was covered in skid marks. A school bus had overturned. Jack shoved her face into the seatback in front of her and closed her eyes. She breathed in the leathery smell. _Focus on the smell, _she told herself. _Think of sailing._

_Jack had never been sailing, until she met Ian. When she was younger she would imagine setting out on a pirate ship. Bloody Jack, they would call her, and she would sail the seven seas, plundering with her crew. Her first trip wasn't anything like that. It was a small thirty-eight boat called _Hummingbird_. Alex was more interested in fishing, but Jack had run to the front and threw out her arms._

_"I'm queen of the world!" she had shouted._

_Alex laughed. Ian called, "I'm not sure that's the quote."_

_The boat had _moved_ then. Jack had felt it sail along the top of the water. She was part of it, skating along the surface. It was as if the ocean was alive, a lifeblood of adventure. _Hummingbird _sang back. She swooped along the waves, her sails fluttering in the wind. Jack laughed out loud. It was fantastic! _

_Then Ian let her hold the rudder. The rudder was at the back, and was made of creamy tan wood, varnished to a shine. When Jack held it, she could communicate with the ocean. Jack could pull against it, or float along. It was her choosing. She could go to the east or west or back to the dock. It was powerful and humbling and thrilling and…._

Jack cracked her head on the window. It was night now. She sat of groggily. _I must have fallen asleep_, she mused. What had it been about? Hummingbirds? No, sailing, with Ian and Alex. She remembered they had gone fishing, and something else… but it was already slipping away. Jack stretched, and then yawned. She was feeling a little fuzzy. Then her eye caught a sign. **Welcome to B_ar _ead Man_r**. They had driven to Boarhead Manor? Sure, some of the letters were missing off the sign, but it was hard to mistake the dismal, creepy exterior for anywhere else. As the bus rolled past the gates into the maximum security prison, Jack noticed the fences. First, they had barbed wire on top. Not to strange. Neither was the fact that there were three fences, about fifteen feet apart. The detail that caught her eye was the concrete trenches littered with broken glass. That was a definite addition.

The bus rumbled into the arena, and was turned off. The driver (_Ben? Bobby? Something like that…_) stood up.

"We're here."

People began to stand up. Hurriedly they begin to depart.

"Please use caution when opening the over head compartments," Jack muttered. "Contents may have shifted during flight."

She slipped the now razor-sharp machete into its sheaf. It gave off a comforting _hiss_.

Cool misty rain fell down onto Jack's face. Her hair stuck to her skin and Jack wiped it hurriedly away. It was hard to see, and figures seemed to flicker into existence, rather than be made of something substantial. Jack followed Mrs. Jones toward a large gray building.

Inside Jack scraped off the mud on her shoes. The stark, clean white walls were comforting to Jack. It had been so long since she had been anywhere clean. Music was echoing off the surfaces. Regina Specktor. Laughing With. Jack hummed along. Mrs. Jones looked back, but Jack ignored her. She followed Mrs. Jones like a little lamb. Jack didn't really care now. She was safe, and that was that mattered. Now that Alex was gone…

She was in an office now, complete with a desk and a few folding chairs. Mr. Blunt sat behind it, thumbing through some papers. Jack couldn't imagine spying being important now. She voiced her thoughts out loud. Mostly to annoy Blunt.

He tapped a stack of papers with a finger. He hadn't even looked up. "The country still needs to be run."

Jack clasped her hands. "Then what should I do?"

Blunt glanced up briefly. "The canteen is open. You could get some food."

Jack left without being dismissed.

It took awhile to find the canteen. There were no maps posted. What worried Jack was that all the cells were empty. Had all the prisoners been eaten?

She found a few of them. Jack actually ran into a prisoner. Looking with greed upon a small cup of jelly, she walked into him. The resulting crash had most of the people in the canteen looking at the two. Then Jack realized that most of the prisoners were free. In the canteen. With her.

The man handed Jack her cup of jelly and her spoon. She offered a mumbled thanks.

"Why don't you sit with us?"

Jack must have noticeably paled. The man laughed. "You're probably done worse than most of us here." He gestured to her machete. "I'm wanted for bank fraud. Most of the people here aren't mass murders."

Jack ducked her head and blushed. She allowed the man to lead her to the table. To her surprise, they welcomed her, the scum of the earth. Jack wondered what she was turning into.

The man held out her chair, and Jack blushed again. There were a few wolf whistles. Sitting there, Jack learned a lot. Hank, the banker, was a joker. He was the popular one, kind and caring, as a prison inmate could be. But Jack didn't let down her guard. She knew what went on, the pain and suffering inmates inflicted upon each other.

Hank noticed her discomfort. "What's wrong?"

"I thought there would be more…gang rivalry and… stuff."

"Stuff?"

Jack shrugged. "You know…hurting eachother…brooms and things…" she trailed off.

Hank shook his head. "This is a tight ship. _The _tightest. No one gets away with crap."

"Oh."

"You're perfectly safe."

Jack snorted. "As safe as you can be with cannibalistic un-dead."

"Speaking of which, can you share some stories?"

Suddenly Jack had the whole tables attention. She cleared her throat. "I didn't do more than anyone else."

A hand clapped her on the shoulder. Jack saw Martha, a fit black woman standing there. "Liar."

"Martha," Jack hissed, "not here!"

Martha laughed. "Sure they do." She called out, "who wants to hear a story?"

She got cheers in response. "Alright, alright. Settle down." She looked remarkably like the professor she used to be, glasses perched on her nose.

"I was doing a routine sweep of a Tesco near King's Street." Jack groaned. She knew _exactly_ where this was heading. Martha glared at Jack. Jack buried her head into her arms. Pacing now, Martha waved her arms for emphasis.

"Then I hear the sounds of about twelve chomps. I'm not lying. Twelve. And they were nasty. Fresh and hungry. Anyway, I figure I'll slip out of there before they notice me. But then I hear someone fighting, and I figure they need help. So I go over a few streets and see this berserker," Martha rubs Jack's head, "chopping them to bits. At first I thought she was hurt, with all that blood. And she took out all twelve by herself. Then I thought I could use a girl like that. And here she is."

Hank tapped Jack's head. "Hello. Sorry, I forgot your name…"

Jack looked up. "I'm Jack. Jack Starbright."

"Right. Jackie…"

Jack cut him off. "I'm Jack."

"Jack."

"Yes?" Jack watched Martha slip off to another table.

"Why were you facing twelve zombies?"

"I got lost. And I wasn't paying attention."

Hank rubbed his neck. "So… is there a younger Starbright?"

Jack shook her head. "I used to have a kid…"

Hank shifted. "Where's the dad?"

Jack laughed. It sounded hollow. "He wasn't mine. I was his… babysitter, and he had lost everyone else."

"And where's the kid? Sounds like you like him." Could Hank have gotten that out of a few words? Jack supposed so.

"He went… He went missing. That's why I facing twelve chomps. I lost it for a bit when I came home and found the house empty." Jack was horrified to find herself crying. "I told him to stay inside. I knew it wasn't safe, but he had just turned fifteen. He was more mature then his age." Jack sniffed. "If you to get stuck in a life threatening situation, he's the one you want to get stuck with."

"What's his name?"

Jack rubbed her eyes. "His name is Alex. Alex Rider." Jack added the last part on a whim. It seemed simultaneously stupid and right to say Alex's surname.

Hank looked up. "Rider?"

"Yah. His name was Rider."

Hank grinned. "We have a Rider here. Maybe their realted."

Jack grinned a little. "Anyone Alex was related to would not have ended up in a maximum security prison."

Jack let out a small gasp when Hank grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet.

"I'll introduce you! You'll like him. He's a little closed off…but nice."

Hank steered through the people. Jack stumbled along behind. She grinned. It was exciting, in a non life-threatening sort of way. They reached another table.

"Rider!" Hank called, and a man at the end looked up.

Jack felt her breath catch.

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Alex's arms ached. It had been three weeks since Jeff had gotten the bow, and he made Alex practice for hours every day.

The sun was starting to set. Alex missed the days when than meant he was almost done. Now it signaled two more hours of work. Jeff wanted Alex to shot instinctively, and was a constant critic.

"No, all three fingers below the arrow. You're not an Indian."

"You're not _drawing_. You need to raise the bow, not pull the string."

"When you get a proper longbow, you can't do a half-assed job. You need to darw all the way, then let go."

"Stop shutting your eye when you let go. You have to be really bad for the string to hit you in the eye."

And so on.

Alex's eyes had gotten better. At least, they felt better. He had finally looked at himself in the mirror the other day. Leon had said there would be some differences. the first was the chemicals had bleached the pigment, so Alex's eyes were blue. This did worry Leon as much as the unknown sensitivity Alex might have. Tnd then there were the scars. Thick ropes of scar tissue that wraped around his eyes and to top of his cheeks. It didn't hurt, it just looked... bad. But it was just another thing Alex lived with; like the gunshot wound or being an ex-spy. He would just have to deal with it.

Alex knew Hannah was watching. She never spoke. Instead, she collected his arrows and smiled. It was all the encouragement Alex needed. He lined up the arrows, sticking the notches into the ground. Holding four in his bow hand, he aimed. _Thunk, thunk, thunk, thunk._ Four perfect hits, each in a different target. Jeff would find something to complain about. But, for now, Alex was happy. Hannah handed Alex his arrows. Alex rubbed his shoulder. It hurt constantly. No matter how much Anna fretted, Jeff responded that it was the muscles working. Leon spoke quietly with Alex when they had down time.

_"I don't trust him."_

_Alex looked up from where he had been fixing his blanket. "Why?"_

_"He says he is a weapons man. Yet I never see him shoot that thing. He has you do all the work."_

_Alex agreed, but added. "I think he knows what he is doing."_

_Leon shook his head. "You are a child."_

_Alex had a feeling of deja vu. Another Russian had sad something similar to him, a long time ago. Alex shook his head to clear it. "I knew him as Eagle. We used to work together."_

Still, Leon kept a watch out. He wouldn't let Alex do most of the heavy work. Alex wouldn't say so, but he was thankful. His right shoulder twitched hard. Alex gritted his teeth. This bow was only four feet. A proper sized one was six feet. It made Alex ache just thinking about it. Hannah just watched. Soon Alex was done practicing. He helped her collect the few arrows that hadn't hit a target. Then, carefully, Alex put one of the bow ends in his foot and pulled the tip down. With practiced ease he unstrung the bow. Hannah shot him a quick smile.

Alex walked towards the house. She quickly fell into step.

"What's for dinner?"

Hannah shrugged. "I don't know. Lots of fresh stuff. We'll need to eat ten apples each again."

Alex groaned and pretended to hold his stomach. "Again? I just got over the trauma!"

Hannah giggled. "Leon will get some too, I'm sure."

Alex looked over the horizon. He could see Orion's Belt, and the Little Dipper. His eyes quickly followed to the Big Dipper. Then he spotted it. Gotha.

"What?" Hannah said. They were almost inside. She rested her hand on the door knob.

"Oh. I just found the North Star," Alex explained. It seemed stupid. Nothing to get excited over.

"Really? Where?" Hannah craned her neck. Her eyes lacked onto Sirius. It was very bright, and easy to pick if a person couldn't get their bearings.

Alex pointed. "See that big star? It's called Sirius, the Dog Star." Then Alex drew his arm up. "Those three stars in a row are Orion's Belt. If you follow them to the Big Dipper…" he traced the shape, "And come up to the Little Dipper and move a bit to the right. Viola! The North Star!"

Hannah wrinkled her nose. "Nope not getting it."

"Look. Se the Big Dipper? Follow the handle up…" Exasperated, Alex grabbed her hand. If he could use her hand to point, Hannah might get it. That's what Ian had done…

At that moment Kate came out side to see were the two teens had gone.

* * *

This story can go so many ways from this point it's not funny. So I'd like some honest suggestions. Do you guys want "Rider" to be Ian, or just some random guy with the same last name? Do you want Alex and Hannah to get serous, or would you rather see her as zombie fodder (I do hope she's not a Mary Sue…but if she is, I can put her out of her misery)? If I'm resurrecting dead people, would you want to see Yassen, or others, come back?

Or do you want something totally bizarre, like Captain America coming and saving the day with Spider Man and the X-Men and Jason Bourne … and The Doctor with his timey-wimey-ness. And the TARDIS. You always need a TARDIS. I have one under my bed. Seriously! I do! Can you tell it's really late now? Wait. I just looked at my clock… really, really early?

School is supposed to be cancelled tomorrow, so I stayed up late (or early), and from what I can see there _will _be school tomorrow. Damn. Oh, well. Anywho… Tell me what you want, hate and love and I will do what I can (about this story. I can't do anything else).

Okay. It's official. I am completely and totally out of it… hopefully that produced a good chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

_It seems that everyone wants Yassen, John and Helen back. Okay guys, you win. ALBANY had the best review I have ever seen. First, it was in Spanish. Second, they suggested that the final fight secne should be in the TARDIS and the whole zombie thing was some aliens trying to take over Earth. That sounds super cool! Sadly, I've never written for DWfiction, so the Doctor will not be in this story._

_If you could, review with the number of your favourite Doctor! And I'll post the winning one in chapter Seven!_

_Also this was written on Feb. 14th, so there is some... *ahem*_

* * *

Jack ripped her hand free from Hank's and thew herself forward.

"Ian!" She screamed.

Ian stumbled back in shock. But Jack had been through enough. She thought he was _dead_!

Jack grabbed Ian's jacket and forced her lips on his. It was utter bliss... but than Ian tried to pull away. Jack tried to stop him, but firm hands forced her back. Jack looked into his green eyes...

And her heart hit the bottom of her stomach. Ian's eyes were blue.

A blush spread from her cheeks until Jack's whole face was red. "Sorry." She mumbled.

The man rubbed the back of his neck. He looked embarrassed too. "It's fine."

Jack looked him over with a critical eye. He had gray in his sideburns and wrinkles. Jack saw a wedding band winking on his finger as he continued rubbing his neck. He looked like Ian. Minus the age and being married part.

Jack mumbled a bit more. She was beyond mortified. People were staring. Didn't they have better things to occupy their time? There was a zombie plague going on!

"Come with me." The man offered.

Jack shook off Hank's hand and followed the man. She would do anything to apologize.

He led her to a hallway.

He looked nervous and slightly excited. "What do you know about Ian?"

"What?" Jack was thrown off. Where had this come from?

A group of woman hurried past, and the man grabbed one of them by the arm. She was very pretty, in a soft way. Her brown hair and eyes were soft and calm. Jack smiled timmidly at her.

The man shook the woman's arm excitedly. "This girl knows about Ian!"

"Really?" The woman's expressive eyes practically glowed with excitement. "Tell me?"

Jack held up her hands. "Why? How do you know him?"

She was getting scared.

The man grinned. "I'm his brother." He stuck out this hand. "John Rider."

Jack gaped. "John..."

The woman nodded. "I'm Helen."

"John..." Jack felt her legs shaking. Her whole body was trembling. "Oh god... John?"

He nodded.

"And Helen? Rider?"

"We are." Helen touched Jack's arm. "Are you alright?"

Jack shook her head and backed up until her back was pressed on the wall andshe slid to the ground.

She started to cry. The waling was impossible to stop. It tore through her body. Breaths were snagged away and her head felt light and she want to die to die to die...

Helen was rubbing her back.

"Breathe."

_Breathe_

_Breathe_

_Breathe_

_Breathe_

Somehow Jack got control. It was so so very hard. Her face was covered in snot and there was a deep ache in her chest and her eyes burned from all the tears.

Helen was looking into her eyes. "Can you talk now?"

Jack nodded.

"Sure." Jack winced at how sick she sounded.

John looked over Helen's shoulder.

Jack couldn't look at them. "I thought you were dead."

Helen shook her head. A smile flicked on the edge of her lips (and it made Jack sick...could she tell should she tell would she tell _it was killing her_) "We had a ferry. But there were real people on that plane." And Jack saw such a deep grief in there, saw that Helen blamed herself everyday for the loss...

John butted it. "What about Ian?"

"Ian?" Jack croaked. The way they escaped, was it possible that Ian had too? But she could think... everything hurt.

John nodded. He was getting scared. "What happened to Ian?"

"He...he died." Jack whispered. "He was killed, almost a year ago..."

"Are you sure?" John seemed suddenly closed off and cold and Jack remembered how Ian, how Alex did that sometimes... had done...

"Yes." And the tears dripping onto her shirt weren't her own now.

Helen hugged her close. The women rocked together. Jack felt her hair being stroked. Then Helen leaned back. "How did you know him?"

Jack sniffed. "I was the housekeeper. Used to be a babysitting job too, but when..." but she stopped and winced. Helen's nails dug into her arm.

"Babysitting?" the word held so much pain that Jack flinched again.

Jack nodded.

"For who?"

"Alex." Jack swallowed. "Alexander Rider."

Jack heard Helen choke next to her. Jack peeked and was surprised to see spots of colour on the other woman's cheeks. She looked at John and saw somthing dark settle.

"What?"

"They...they told us he died."

Jack snapped her head up. "What? If you could have gone to a funeral...? He was alive, and perfectly healthy..."

Jack was lying. Alex was alive, maybe, and he was no where near healthy...but Jack had to lie to his mother, so comfort her.

"Tell me about him!" Helen looked around frantically. "Is he here?" Her hand, trembling, pressed to her mouth. "Can... can I meet him?"

Jack let of a soft sob, but Helen heard.

"No. Tell me no."

John pulled Helen to her feet and Jack looked up at both of them and nothing came out.

They looked at Jack and she looked at them and they all cried and tried to ignore each other and comfort each other at the same time and it just wasn't working.

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Alex pulled the pick across the strings. It sounded...

"That sounded like crap."

"Thanks." He shook the guitar. "Why don't you try?"

Hannah laughed. "I play piano...the harp in the box!" She cackled and fell off the arm of the couch. Alex heard the thump as she hit the floor and winced.

They were in one of the top rooms in the house, full of random things. This one was pack with furniture and Hannah had pulled a guiter from under of sofa.

He crawled acroos the leather and peeked over. Hannah promptly stuck her smelly, gross socks into his face. Alex recoiled.

"Damn!"

"No Sasha... if you curse, say it in Russian."

Alex shook his head. "I'm not teaching you curses in Russian."

She stuck out her tongue. "Why?"

"You'll just annoy of Leon. And I'd never hear the end of it."

"Fine." Hannah huffed. She crawled across the floor and pulled herself on to a bench. Then she promptly smashed a chord on the piano.

She looked coyly at Alex. He pretended to ignore her.

"If I kiss you where it's sore/ If I kiss you where it's sore/ Will you feel better, better, better/Will you feel anything at all/Will you feel better, better, better/Will you feel anything at all?"

Alex strummed a few chords, interrupting Hannah. She switched songs, and played louder. "It's like forgetting the words to your favorite song/You can't believe it/You were always singing along/It was so easy and the words so sweet/You can't remember/You try to feel the beat!"

Alex turned a peg on the neck of the guitar, and a chord rang out. This one was different, somehow. Alex felt it. He quickly moved his fingers back to the start. He played it! Hannah looked up for the keys, where she was poking out "Mary had a little lamb".

"You got it!"

Alex turned his back on her. "Don't sound so surprised."

Hannah poked him. "Your ninja, not a musician."

"I'm not a ninja." Alex set the guitar aside.

"It's still not fair."

She poked him again.

"What is?"

Another poke. Alex half considered poking her back.

"You having all the talent."

"I can't sing."

"That's true..." Hannah trailed off. "But your a ninja..."

And she poked him again.

Akex grabbed her wrist. Hannah tried to twist away, but Alex grabbed her chin. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," Hannah mutted and jerked her head away.

Alex wasn't having any of it. Hannah had been off for the better part of two weeks. "Tell me." He growled.

"No!" Hannah snapped, andpushed him away. Alex slid on the leather. He landed on the floor with a _oof_.

He was winded for a moment. Hannah poked her head over. Alex garbbed her arm and pulled her onto the floor next to him. Laughing, she landed next to him.

Alex poked her. It was immature, but she had gotten him four times. Four! She swatted his hand away.

"Will you tell me now?"

She shook her head. Alex pulled the guitar off the couch and strummed the chords. He saw Hannah take a breath. He kept playing.

"What are the words?" Alex hummed the first line. He knew Hannah was dying to sing. Alex tapped the pick on the body twice. Then a hard chord then fast fast...

Hannah started to whisper. Alex stopped and played from the beginning.

"As the winter winds litter London with lonely hearts/Oh the warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms/Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night?/For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt"

Alex slid his fingers into the next chord.

"And my head told my heart/"Let love grow"/But my heart told my head/"This time no""

Hannah sat up and leaned on the couch. Alex kept lying on the floor, strumming. His fingers were beginning to ache.

"We'll be washed and buried one day my girl/And the time we were given will be left for the world/The flesh that lived and loved will be eaten by plague/So let the memories be good for those who stay"

Those lyrics made Alex look up. Hannah peeked at him and held the next word.

"Hey...!"

Alex sat up now.

"And my head told my heart/"Let love grow"/But my heart told my head/"This time no""

"Oh the shame that sent me off from the God that I once loved/Was the same that sent me into your arms/Oh and pestilence is won when you are lost and I am gone/And no hope, no hope will overcome"

Alex grinned as Hannah jumped to her feet. She paced around the room, practically shouting.

"And if your strife strikes at your sleep/Remember spring swaps snow for leaves" She faltered for a moment, then plunged on "You'll be happy and wholesome again/When the city clears and sun ascends"

She stopped, and Alex's chord echoed in the room. Hannah stood still, her head hanging. He walked over to her. Alex could her her singing still. When she looked at him, her eyes and face were wet.

"And my head told my heart/"Let love grow"/But my heart told my head/"This time no""

Alex watched as Hannah stepped closer.

"And my head told my heart"

She was close enough to touch.

""Let love grow""

Then Hannah shook her head. Alex watched the tears splash down.

"But my heart told my head/"This time no""

She stopped, breathing heavily. Hannah was crying silently. Alex grinned.

"That's a stupid heart wasn't..." He never finished, as Hannah smashed her lip onto his.

Alex stumbled back slightly. Hannah grabbed his hand and Alex kissed her back.

Then she sat down on the floor. "Sorry."

"It's fine." Alex didn't know what else to say.

Hannah tugged at the edge of her shirt. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising." Alex sighed and sat down. The guitar bumped on his chest. He curled his fingers into postition. Alex looked at Hannah. She looked misrable. What the hell. Alex launached into it.

"As the winter winds litter London with lonely hearts/Oh the warmth in your eyes swept me into your arms/Was it love or fear of the cold that led us through the night?/For every kiss your beauty trumped my doubt"

Hannah looked up. A small grin flickered on her lips. Alex kept going. Soon she was sitting there grinning like a loon.

Alex finished. He pushed his guitar to the side. His fingers were aching, he still had to pratice the longbow later.

"So."

Hannah sniffed. "So."

"What's up."

"The roof."

Alex snorted. "Nice. Anything else?"

"The moon?"

"And what's wrong with the moon?"

Hannah looked away. "The moon is jealous."

Alex cracked his knuckles. "What is the moon jealous of? A ninja?"

Hannah lauged, then kicked Alex lightly. "No."

Alex shook his head. He could never understand girls.

"Hannah, just tell me what's wrong."

She bit her lip.

"Who are you jealous of?"

Hannah mumbled something.

Alex leaned closer when Hannah mumbled again.


	7. Chapter 7

_It seems no one likes Doctor Who... oh well._

* * *

After discovering Alex's parents, Jack never let them out of her sight. She was careful around Hank as well. He had demanded to know what had happened between her and "Rider". Jack refused to tell. Instead, she spoke to Martha. And Jack told her everything.

They were sitting in Jack's room, an actual cell, complete with bunk and gross toilet. Martha had snagged a chair from the mess, but it wouldn't be missed. A group of about ten people had arrived, and were going through quarantine. Jack didn't envy them; all ten trapped in a cell for three days, so if one was infected, it would quickly be known. Then background checks (Jack had no idea MI6 kept paper records and managed to move everything to the prison.).

Martha was appalled.

"They let a child do things like this?" she was pacing the room like a tiger.

Jack nodded. "I don't know half of what happened in Africa. He was kidnapped for God's sake! And Alex shook it off like it was normal."

"Have you told his parents?"

"No." Jack was unsure what to tell. She had so far convinced Helen that Alex had a normal life. They barely spoke of the year after Ian's death. The missing year; where everything went wrong.

Martha sat down on the chair. She crossed her legs and one foot jigged up and down.

Martha took a deep breath before she spoke. She knew that Jack trusted her judgment, and would follow orders. Yet, Jack was human, and had her own thoughts on the way of the world. Despite this, Martha knew the right thing was never easy, but it must be done as often as possible.

"You have to tell them…"

Jack timidly begin to protest. Martha would have none of it.

"Look, you said this Blunt and Jones are in charge, right?"

Jack nodded.

"Good. Tell them I want a meeting in," Martha looked at her watch, "thirty minutes. I'm going to check the records. I want them in the back guard room by that time."

Jack shrugged. "What about John and Helen."

Martha grinned. "I'll have Benny get them."

Jack was confused. "Who?"

"The driver. Used to be a spy too. I'll get him in on this. Who knows? He might have worked with Alex!"

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Jack was impressed. Martha had set up a meeting room in record time. They were all here. Helen and John sat on the side furthest from the door, directly across from Mr. Blunt and Mrs. Jones. They all seemed uncomfortable. Martha was in charge here. Ben sat next to Jack, and shot her a grin. Jack glared back. He, as far as she was concerned, was happy with Alex being put in harm's way.

Mr. Blunt was looking at a thin file, making notes in the margins. Martha coughed. He didn't look up.

Martha dropped a thick file on the table with a bang.

"I'm glad I all have your attention." She snapped.

Martha separated the bulk in to eight separate files. They seemed slightly less impressive that way, but Jack couldn't help but marvel at what Alex had done.

Mr. Blunt blinked slowly. "Where did you get that file?" He did not seem worried. This infuriated Jack. He should be sweating

"In the file room. Mind you, it's hard to find. It was under the 'Z's."

Mrs. Jones sniffed. "It was filed incorrectly for secretly purposes."

Martha continued. "In experimental weapons…"

Mrs. Jones pursed her lips. "This is highly sensitive information. You shouldn't have carried it here. Who knows who could have seen that? Why, we had Ya-"

Mr. Blunt held up a hand and Mrs. Jones snapped her mouth shut. Who had they contained? John looked up at this too.

Jack gritted her teeth. "And what was so secret about this file?"

Helen held up a hand. Jack nodded at her. "I don't see how we," she gestured to her husband, "are needed here."

John nodded.

Martha took a deep breath, and Jack clenched her hands under the table. The ax was going to fall.

"Wait." Mr. Blunt cut Martha off. "Do you what to negotiate first?"

Jack was revolted. "What? Negotiate? As in discuss this?"

"Yes. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement. There is really no need…"

A sinister hiss filled the room. Jack looked around. Martha had slid one of the files over to where John and Helen sat. It rested closed on the table for a moment. John flipped open the file. Helen gasped and pulled out a small square of paper. Jack recognized it as Alex's picture. She snuck a glance at Martha, who shot her a wink. Jack was surprised to see Ben grinning softly, almost to himself. The three watched happily as the Riders read the file. Jack felt enormous relief. She wouldn't have to tell them herself. John flipped through some papers and froze. He read it once, twice. John looked up, past Jack and Ben and Martha.

"Are you sure?" He crocked.

Mrs. Jones nodded. "We are very sure he killed Ian. We told Alex about that as well…"

Martha cut her off. "Are you talking about Yassen?"

John nodded. He seemed shaken and confused and sick. Jack felt he was somehow most disgusted in himself.

"Well," Martha forged on, "this Yassen guy can't have been all bad."

Jack was confused, but she saw the spymasters and John shoot her incredulous looks. Ben actually laughed.

"He looked out for Alex, in a way. I mean," She tapped the fourth file. "he gave is life for your kid."

John looked shock, and Helen gasped.

"Yassen is dead?" she squeaked.

Ben spoke. "Why are you so upset? You should be happy he's gone."

Helen looked furious. "Don't you dare tell me how to act! This man saved Alex!"

"He was an international killer!"

John shook his head, "He protected my son."

"He killed your brother." Mrs. Jones cut in.

Jack felt like her head was going to explode. There were too many complications. The man who killed Ian protected Alex. Why?

This threw John off. "Did you catch him?"

Mrs. Jones shook her head. "Not then."

Jack wondered _when_ MI6 caught him then.

Then Mrs. Jones added snidely. "After all, you taught him everything you knew."

The silence was oppressive. The man who protected Alex, who killed Ian, was trained by Ian's _brother_. Jack rubbed her temples. Her head was throbbing.

Helen spoke up. "Was this when you when undercover?"

John nodded. Then he looked up. "What did you say about Yassen?"

"He's dead." Ben piped up.

John waved his hand impudently. "Hush."

Jack understood. "Mrs. Jones said 'Not then.'"

Martha caught on. "So you _did_ catch Yassen!"

Mrs. Jones nodded.

"Where is he?" demanded Ben. Jack had no idea when he had started to care, but she remembered what a teacher had told her about Alex. _When he makes friends, he is fiercely loyal._ That was after the incident behind the bike shed. Then Jack remembered the rest. _And over time, his friends become fiercely loyal to him. _Ben must have met Alex then.

Mr. Blunt spoke then. "After the code was called," he sighed, "Yassen escaped."

"He could be anywhere in the world right now." Martha snapped.

Mr. Blunt shook his head. "We had the Chunnel closed down, and he was on the watch list. He couldn't have gotten out."

"He could have gone to Scotland." Ben offered. "It's easy to hide there."

Jack nodded. That's where she'd go.

Mrs. Jones shook her head. "No, he knew what was going on. He wasn't stupid." John made a nose of agreement, and almost seemed proud.

"No," Mr. Blunt agreed. "He could be anywhere. Wales is possible as well."

"That's not true." Mrs. Jones said. "He would have wanted to warn someone, to help them."

"Who?" Jack asked. But she knew before Mrs. Jones spoke.

"Alex."

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Alex was unaware of the drama being played out only miles away. He was sitting in the back of a pickup truck, bouncing in the back. His longbow lay across his lap. It was completely at odds with the M1 Carbines and sniper rifles the other people held. Alex ignored them. He was angry and disappointed. He remembered a few days ago, when everything had been fine.

_A small group (a teenage girl and about seven children), had shown up at the door. Kate had ushered them into the dining room, where everyone was eating. Kate introduced the teen and the children, but Alex wasn't listening. Then the girl pulled Kate to the side and a whispered conversation ensured. Kate calmed the girl down and walked over to the table and slammed her hand down on it. All talking stopped. Hannah flinched. Alex ignored her. He was still angry at her after the situation a few days before. When Hannah finally explained her actions, Alex couldn't believe she would be so selfish or shallow. When he had spoken to Leon, the man told Alex that Hannah was scared. Alex disagreed profusely. If Hannah was worried that Alex would pick someone else over her, and then try to physically seclude him, Alex would ignore her. And he had been doing good so far._

_Kate glared down the table._

_"The Rangers are coming." _

_The table erupted._

_Kate slammed her hand down again._

_"Quiet!" the room slowly calmed down. "For those of you who don't know, the Rangers are…" she paused, as if to consider the adjectives to describe the group. "The police; more or less. I think they are only active in this area. They require food and weapons for our continued protection. We have all agreed to this."_

_There were nods up and down the table. Alex saw Leon scowl._

_Kate continued. "Nancy has told me that the Rangers are running out of man power."_

_She paused. "Our manpower."_

_No one spoke. _

_"They refuse to take volunteers, and instead will select the people they want." Kate swallowed. "We will comply with these orders."_

_Leon shook his head._

_Kate glared at him. "We have no choice!"_

_People begin to shift uneasily. Nancy hugged one of the little girls close to her body._

_Alex spoke up. "There is always a choice."_

_Alex remembered someone once told him that, but it was far away now. He pressed on._

_"We can rig the selection. Those who want to go, do well. Show off their skill. Those who don't want to go, use the weapons badly. Mess up so much that they won't even look at you."_

_Kate froze for a moment. Then she nodded her agreement._

With a groan the truck rumbled to a stop. Alex clambered out, his joints aching. He looked back, and realized he had been separated from everyone he had known. Alex's plan had work for everyone except himself. The Rangers realized the need for archers, and had been ecstatic when Jeff had demonstrated his skill with the recurve. Then Jeff volunteered Alex.

_Jeff smiled thinly at the praise he was offered, then shook his head. The sun was starting to set and the Rangers would leave with the men they had chosen. Alex had done poorly in hand-to-hand, and could feel a lump forming on his head. He would be bruised tomorrow. Then Eagle opened his big mouth._

_"There is someone who can shoot better than be."_

_The leader had been doubtful when Eagle called Alex forward. Alex knew he was the youngest in the lineup. There was a few women, and Nancy had been taken. Alex remembered how the children cried. Eagle handed Alex the latest longbow. It was six feet in length, and had taken Alex forever to build up enough strength to draw it. It was familiar now, like the gun training at Scorpia. Despite this, Alex was nervous. He would be firing instinctively. If he did well, he would be taken. And Alex didn't want that. The leader waved Alex up. Alex stood at the starting point, put five arrows in his bow hand, swung on his quiver, knocked a sixth, took a deep breath, and fired._

The place Alex had ended up was nothing like the place he had left. Here a chain link fence contained a dirt arena, ringed by tents. Some could be classified as shacks. Moaners ringed the compound, reaching through. Alex saw a woman walking along the fence, chopping off arms. Where had he ended up? Alex numbly followed the men into one of the larger tents. It was set up like an assembly hall. The row of folding chairs faced the front. There was a line of people along the other side. Alex followed the line he was in and sat in his seat. When all the noise quieted down, a woman stepped forward. She was on Indian decent, and her hair was shot with gray. The military fugues hung off her like rags.

"My name is Rasha. I am in charge of you misfits for the next hour. Then I hope to never see you again." She strode around. Alex knew what was happening. The basic your-are-nothing-if-I-tell-you-are-nothing-until-I-descide-you-are-someting speech. It was used to intimidate, to weed out the weak. Alex knew it wouldn't work on these people. They had been torn from families and safety. They already were nothing, and had to make themselves something again. Alex tried not to yawn. Finally Rasha was finished. Alex woke up when he saw Wolf step forward. How had Wolf gotten here? Was he supposed to meet everyone from his past? Alex supposed that it must be something like Dantate's Inferno. And Alex was in the tenth circle now.

"My name is Wolf. Names are not important to me. I want you to come up here one at a time and tell me what you can do. Then one of our more experienced," Wolf gestured to the lie of people behind him, "will decide whether or not you are worth the effort to train. If you are not, you will be released with enough food and supplies to last a week."

No one complained.

Despite Wolf calming not to care, the first man that went up told his name.

"My name is Walt, and I'm good with explosives."

Wolf asked Walt to demonstrate. Walt looked at Wolf and said in a you-are-a-moron-why-would-I-carry-explosives voice. "I forgot to pack the, sorry."

Wolf glared at him for a second, and then told Walt to go to a certain tent tomorrow. It was all lost on Alex, who had begin to nod off. It was only eight, Alex guessed, but the ride had exhausted him. He lay the longbow under his chair and fell asleep.

A rough hand shook him. Alex grabbed the offending wrist and ripped the hand away from his shoulder. At the same time he picked up his bow. It wouldn't do him any good, but was habit now. Eagle had drilled it into him. Something happens, grab the bow. Alex then smashed his head into the attacker's face. The attacker yelped. Alex staggered back. His head was on fire. Wolf howled and clutched his bloody nose. Alex looked up blearily at his surroundings. Wolf was trying to stop the blood.

He swore.

"Wolf," Alex slurred. His head was killing him. "You sounded like a girl."

Alex thought he might have been grinning in a stupefied manner. It felt like it.

Wolf growled.

"I mean, "Alex continued, "What would Eagle say? Something like 'toughen up', right?" Alex laughed."And Snake…Sanke would get you something from the med-kit, and Fox would make you miserable."

His body was staring to sway. Wolf was staring, his eye screwed in pain.

Wolf stepped close to Alex. "Where did you get those names?"

Alex shrugged.

"Tell me!" Wolf snarled, gabbing fistfuls of Alex's shirt.

"God Wolf, you're paranoid." Alex complained. "I was with Eagle at a safe house, until the Rangers took me. Rangers. What a bunch of-"

Alex was cut off what Wolf slapped in across the face. It shocked Alex out of..whatever he was in.

He blinked twice.

"Ow." Then Alex's brow furrowed. "My head is killing me."

"Good." Wolf growled. He marched Alex up to the front of the tent. As they walked, Alex's head begin to clear.

Alex looked around for a few seconds. Everyone was watching. "I'm sorry" he muttered.

"No worries," Wolf hissed. "I think you were just out of it for a few seconds."

"Thanks." Alex replied. As if he hadn't noticed himself.

The he found himself, alone, in front of a hundred and fifty other people who didn't really care about him.

"Hi." Alex said.

Rasha glared. "Louder!" She barked.

"Hello. My name is Alex Rider. I'm fifteen years old."

Alex shrugged. "That's it, I guess."

"What are you good at?" Rasha snapped.

"Well," Alex paused. "Charming the ladies?"

Wolf coughed.

Alex scrambled for something. "I'm good at martial arts."

A man Alex remembered as the leader of the selection group stepped forward. "He did very badly."

"Don't like to me, little boy!" Rasha shouted.

"I'm not lying," Alex snapped. He noticed someone slip into the end of the line. "I'm a first dan in karate!"

"That does not mean anything thing here." Rasha smirked.

Alex was desperate. He would not be thrown out. If he was, he would be utterly defenseless. "I trained for almost a month on Malagosto."

This didn't get the reaction Alex was hoping for. Maybe he spent too long in the spy trade.

The leader seemed to have taken pity on Alex, and spoke on his behalf.

"The kid is incredible with the longbow. A natural. I'm sure someone would want that talent?"

A figure at near the end of the line put up his hand.

"I will take him."

Alex thought his heart would stop.

* * *

From AH's blog:

SCORPIA RISING starts in the British Museum in London. Then it moves to a place called the Siwa Oasis in Egypt, in the middle of the Sahara desert, where we meet Kalid Aziz Al-Kazim who is without doubt the nastiest villain I've ever created. He worked for Saddam Hussein when he was fourteen. He graduated to Al Qaeda. Now he's in business for himself. There are actually three villains in this book. One of them is what you might call an old friend – brought back by popular demand. The other is a teacher at an international school in Cairo which is where Alex is sent after an assassin in London tries to…but I mustn't give too much away.

From Egypt we go to the River Seine in Paris where our old friends, Scorpia, are having a high-level meeting. Then we're in Gibralter. And finally – in Chapter 7 – we catch up with Alex in England. He's fifteen in this book and you'll see almost at once that everything has changed, particularly his relationship with Jack.

SCORPIA RISING has a very twisty plot with a lot of surprises, not all of them pleasant. A few more things… You will come across the Smithers's last gadget and learn something about Smithers that you never knew before. You will see Alan Blunt in a completely new light. One character who has been in all eight previous books will die. The ending is fairly shocking. And when you get to the end you will be in no doubt at all that this is THE LAST ALEX RIDER BOOK EVER. (Well, I'm still going to write about Yassen and I do have one surprise up my sleeve, several years down the line – but this is the last in the series.) I'm really pleased with the way it's turned out. I think it's the best of the lot – perhaps the best book I've ever written.

If that doesn't excite you, you're not human. But not being human is cool


	8. Chapter 8

_A random chappie_

* * *

Boars Head was a rush of activity. The quarantined persons were going to be released today. Jack watched with apprehension. Mrs. Jones had orders, which were being followed to the letter. Three men were to open the door. They were armed with pistols. Five meters behind them were fifteen men with shotguns and rifles. Finally there was a mob of about thirty people armed with.. well, anything. Broken bottles, sticks, rocks and clubs. Jack was sure she saw an urn bring waived at one point. Everyone else was behind a makeshift fence. John had warned them to keep back. Helen and Martha were talking, planning. Ben was absent. He had said something about going to the bathroom. So Jack stood off to the side, feeling completely left out. John tapped her on the shoulder. She looked up at him a grinned weakly.

"How are you feeling?" she asked.

It wasn't often you got betrayed on such large a magnitude. Jack could begin to imagine their pain.

"Fine," John said, and it seemed he meant it. Jack was about to ask for an explanation, but Helen interrupted.

"It's starting."

The whole thing had a surreal movie like quality. The three men rushed forward. Two knelt in front of the door, guns raised. The third ripped it back. There was a pause. A woman stumbled forward, blinking in the light. Jack caught her breath. The woman was fine. Zombies wouldn't blink. But one of the troops was trigger happy, and his gun barked. The woman stumbled. Her scream ripped the air.

Mrs. Jones rushed forward shouting, "Who fired? Who fired?" Mrs. Jones pulled one of the troops aside and was yelling in their face.

Nine other people ran out of the cell. The troops launched a volley on them. Jack watched a child fall.

Helen was screaming, "Their safe! Can't you see their safe?" She was banging her fists on the rickety fence.

John was shouting at Mrs. Jones, who was trying to restore order. The mob had a mind of its own and rushed. Suddenly an air horn sounded. Ben walked forward slowly, the blare clearing a path. Jack was gurney being wheeled out. Everyone stopped. The doctors loaded the people onto the stretchers and wheeled them away. People began to disperse. The woman was still lying on the ground. Helen rushed forward. Mrs. Jones and John were arguing, troops one in a awhile joining in. Ben and Martha were forcefully removing some morbid spectators.

She was still alive. Jack saw that the woman was younger than she thought. Her reddish hair was damp with sweat. Helen was holding her hand, speaking comforting words. Jack crouched beside her.

The woman gasped a few times. She was staring to hyperventilate.

"We need to get her to calm down." Helen whispered to Jack. "If we do, she will have more time."

"What should I do?" Jack whispered. The woman's eyes were unfocused and glazed.

"You need to talk to her. As about her family, her friends…" Helen shrugged. "I'll try and patch her up."

Jack looked at the copious amounts of blood on the ground. "Why didn't the doctors take her?"

Helen clenched her free hand. "They didn't think she was worth saving."

Helen gave Jack the woman's hand and begin her work. The woman gaped and whimpered.

"Hey," Jack said. She felt stupid and out of her depth. The woman's eyes focused slightly.

"Hey," Jack repeated "I'm right here."

"You're American." The woman whispered.

"Yes. Where are you from?" Jack had to get her to remember good things, happy things.

"Russia." That was far.

The woman flinched, and Jack revisited the urge to look at what Helen was doing.

"You're a bit far, aren't you?"

The woman nodded. "I want to go home." She whimpered.

Jack patted her head. "You will. I promise. Everything will be hunkey-dorkey."

The woman grinned. "The boy said that some times." She coughed slightly.

Jack rubbed the woman's hand. "Does he have a name?"

The woman nodded excitedly. "He was looking for an American. He looked and looked…" She trailed off.

Jack had to keep her. Jack patted her face. "Hey. Hey, look at me now." Jack was alert on the woman in front of her. The eyes flickered up. "It's me, the hunkey-dorkey American. What's your name?"

The woman coughed again. "I'm dying."

"No. No you are not." Jack was firm, like a primary school teacher. "I need your name."

"Why?" The woman whispered. "It won't matter."

Jack had to keep her focus. What would Alex say? Something witty, right? "So I can put it on your tombstone."

The woman laughed softly. "That's something he would say."

Jack nodded. "Tell me who you are, so I can help you."

The woman shook her head. Jack was grasping for straws.

"He could be here."

'"Who?" The woman was defiantly drifting now. She even started to close her eyes! Jack wasn't going to let that happen.

"The boy, the one who make jokes. Your friend." Jack had no idea if the boy was this woman's friend. She had no idea if he was real. "If you tell me your name, I can find him for you."

The woman was back now."Really?"  
Jack looked into the woman's eyes. "Really."

The woman swallowed. "I'm Anna. Anna Alecovna. My…my…"

Jack rubbed her had. "Shush. Calm down. Take a deep breath. We're not leaving Anna."

Anna nodded. "My husband…husband Leon…"

"I'll look for him ok?" Jack said. "I'll look for your boy."

Anna shook her head. "No. Don't look for him. The Rangers…" She mumbled off.

The Rangers? Jack had no idea who Anna was talking about, besides the Texas Rangers, a baseball team. The wets baseball team.

"..lied to them." Anna whispered. "Did bad…they…hurt Leon…so…" She coughed deeply now, and it was a horrible sound to Jack. She stole a glance at Helen.

Anna was still mumbling. Jack heard 'Eagle'. Didn't Ben train with someone named 'Eagle'?

"Eagle boasted…so they…not take him…take anyway…and they took the boy…" Anna burst into tears.

Jack franticly tried to calm her down.

"All my fault…all my fault…"

"Hush, hush, it's not your fault." Jack said. "You didn't do anything wrong."

Helen appeared at Jack's elbow. "She's stable now."

Jack made to down the woman's had, but Anna held onto it like a life line.

"I never meant to hurt him!" She hissed. "I thought the acid would hurt the dead, not a boy."

Jack was about to speak, but Helen cut her off. "Where did the acid hit him?"

"The eyes," Anna moaned. "In his eyes! And all the brown ran away! Ran away like water!"

Jack was confused.

"Possibly pigment bleaching," Helen whispered. "Nothing serious."

Anna moved her hands now, waving them in front of Jack's face. "Horrible scars. He was so handsome…" Anna sobbed. "And old eyes. Old, old eyes."

Jack felt a jolt of fear. "Old eyes?"

Anna nodded. "Such old eyes."

Jack's stomach did a flip. "And you said the Rangers took him?"

"I didn't want him to go!" Anna moaned. "They all die, Everyone knows they all die!"

Helen was professional. "Ma'am, you need to calm down. What to the Rangers do?"

"Anything. They are the police." Anna nodded. "That's what Kate said. The police. To protect us. But they killed Leon to make him shoot, and stole him away!"

"Alright." Helen rubbed Anna's back, pulled her into a sitting position. Jack glanced down and was surprised to see a superficial gash. She had been keeping Anna out of shock.

"I didn't want them to take him. I wouldn't let them! But Kate stopped me…" Anna was crying now.

Helen looked over a Jack and shouted over the noise, "Give her some time. She'll calm down soon."

And with repeated back rubs and soothing words, Helen had the woman speaking quietly and softly again. Jack had no idea how much time they had lost on this woman, but was grateful when she saw John, Ban and Martha close by.

Helen spoke softly, and Jack just listened. "Is the boy yours?"

Anna shrugged. "I took care of him."

"That's fine." Helen said. "I'm sure he loved you too."

Anna shook her head. "He never loved. The boy was scared to. He locked himself deep inside and never let anyone close."

"I'm sure he was just scared." Helen said, trying to comfort the woman.

The woman snorted. "The boy was something to be feared. He could fight and he could kill."

Jack was tired of the woman bashing on this nameless boy. "What's his name?"

"Sasha."

"Sasha?" Jack tried not to laugh. Maybe he was teased. That's why he was so closed off. A shadow fell behind her. Jack looked up. Ben was standing there. He said something softly. The women looked up and begin to jabbered. Ben spoke a few words, and then pointed at Jack, then Helen.

Anna looked at Jack for a moment, judging her. "You are American?"

Jack sighed. She was sure they had gone over this. "Yes, the hunkey-dorkey American, at your service."

Anna's moth dropped open. "Jack Starbright?"

Jack reeled away. "How do you know my name?"

But Anna was now focused on Helen. "Are you Helen Rider?"

Helen nodded.

Anna looked confused. "You are dead… all of you." she pointed a shaking finger. "Ben Daniels," Anna turned to look at Jack. "Jack Starbight, and Helen Rider. Am I dead too?"

"No." Helen shook her head. "Me being dead, it was a mistake."

Anna nodded. She seemed to be collecting her thoughts. Jack was surprised how calm she was.

The next words shocked Jack.

"Alex has a message for you." Anna said. "He's sorry, and he'll come find you. No matter what."


	9. Chapter 9

I was thinking the other day of a fic I read awhile ago. I couldn't remember its name, or the writer's, but it had zombies in it. I thought that was really cool. Then I stumbled upon it the other day and read it. i thought it was **awesome**! So I waited for an update... then yesterday I logged into FFN and realized it was _my _story. Oops. So, I think I'll write a chapter now...

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Tom stacked the cans by name and height. James polished some bottles. Working quickly, they would finish soon and get to the canteen in time for lunch. Fantastic. Mr. Bimer still taught English. But Brookland really had become a prison. They could never leave school. Tom remembered one day Alex hadn't come back. He, however, had gone to school like normal. But they were never released. Bimer had said that most school were like this now. _To protect the children._ Tom had laughed then.

He put the last can in place. James led the way to the canteen. Tom saw a crying boy. The kid looked about seven. Tom wordlessly gave him a hug. The boy sniffed and then wandered away. Tom watched him go and felt a great loss. Then he turned to pick up his tray.

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Jack sat with Anna every single day. Sometimes Helen or Martha brought her food. Mostly Ben came. They would sit side by side and watch the sleeping woman.

One in a while she would mummer. Ben translated when he could. She was mumbling now.

He laughed.

"She's telling someone to stop trying to get the bead off the ceiling."

Jack laughed. "What do you think happened?"

"I don't know." Ben said. "But Anna has some fond memories…"

He stopped, and looked at Jack. He thought she was an enigma, with her fire hair and machete and dresses that stopped at the knee.

Jack rubbed Anna's hand. "She knew Alex."

Ben looked away. "I can't be sure."

Jack glanced up. "I know."

They were both quiet and sober. Jack wished Alex was safe, at least.

Ben stretched. "I hope Wolf is with him. He'll take care of the kid."

"Really?" Jack pushed some hair of Anna's forehead. "I thought Yassan would be the best. He watched out for Alex, right?"

"He's a killer. He has no mercy and cares for no one. Scorpia is evil…were, if they still exist. Alex wouldn't benefit from being around someone like that, Jack." Ben berated himself for feeling pleasure from her name.

"But he would be safe." Jack murmured. "That's all I care about."

Ben grabbed her free hand. "Even if him being safe destroyed what you knew of him?"

Jack pulled away. "Evryone's changed. Look, Ben, I wouldn't be surprised if Alex was a little different. I'd still love him."

Ben couldn't meet her eyes.

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Alex sat in the tree, feet hanging down. Some people passed beneath him. They were all being tested. Alex still hadn't met…_don't think his name._ He had been dismissed from the tent, sent to sleep with some other boys his age. They ignored him. He did the same. One he was trained, he was gone. Alex had promised Jack.

A crash below startled Alex. There were two trainers in here somewhere. The Rangers were crazy, Alex was sure. The test was simple. If you passed, you got a mentor and if you didn't…Alex was sure you would be used for training later.

Besides the two trainers were six people (including Alex) and six zombies. One each. You failed if you got bitten. Simple. But Alex was unarmed. He watched a trainer stumble underneath his perch. Something was wrong. The trainer was staggering.

"Hey." Alex called down. "You okay?"

The trainer looked up. Her face was drawn in pain. "Got bit," she hissed.

Alex flinched in sympathy. "Anything I can do?"

The trainer paused. "Yes." She beckoned. "Get down here."

Alex obeyed. She handed him a short knife. Alex wordlessly took it.

"I need you to survive."

Alex smirked. "Easier said than done."

The trainer nodded. "I'll be bait. I think there are three more then we started with."

Alex swallowed. He was scared.

They were fenced in. He could climb it and run… but he would fail.

"What do I need to do?"

"You've had no training, right?"

Alex nodded.

"Okay… get behind them if you can. Go for the head. Think on your feet."

She stopped, to lean on the tree. "Hold on." She took the knife back and pulled up her shirt.

Alex lunged forward. "Stop!" He screamed.

She howled in pain and bent over, panting. The trainer shoved the bloody knife at him. "Get up in the tree."

Alex pulled himself up. The smell of blood and fear was strong. He felt sick, like he had cut the woman. Like he had hurt her. The knife was sticky in his hands. The zombies came quickly. The first was easy. Alex hung from him knees and severed the spinal cord at the base of the head. The trainer saw and smiled. Her teeth were bloody.

Alex waited and cut. He was quiet and cold and felt so very alone. After the ninth one, he assumed the rest were still alive. One more trainer, and three trainees. The trainer below him was gasping softly. He hurried to her. She was wimpering softly. Alex bent close to her.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered to her. Then he grabbed her hair in his free hand and pulled her head back.

Her eyes went wide. "Wait-"

Alex buried the knife in her throat. He felt tried and old and sick at what he had done.

He pulled out the knife out, prepared to fight a zombie. The body didn't stir. Alex felt a cold rush through his body. He shook the trainer. _No, no. don't do this to me._ He thought she had cut herself open to save him. It was a trick. And he fell for it too hard.

Alex stumbled back from the trainer's body. He had killed someone. He had killed a _person_. He turned to run and fell down. Then he started to scream.

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Wolf made it surprisingly quickly. He skidded to a halt. Alex lay on the ground, shaking. The man next to Wolf shook his head.

"Molly liked to be dramatic." Wolf muttered. _Damn._

"I think she took it too far with the wrong person." The man responded.

Wolf watched as the man pulled Alex up. The boy's head lolled. Wolf backed away.

"Is he bitten?"

The man shook his head. "No."

Wolf looked around. "What happened?"

"She lied."

Wolf looked at Alex. "What?"

"She lied to me…" Alex looked with hollow eyes. In broken he told them what happened.

Wolf shook his head. "Damn."

Alex took a shuddering breath. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." The man supporting him said.

Wolf saw Alex recoil. He fell to the ground. Wolf went to help, but stopped. This was between Alex and his mentor.

Alex looked up from his position on the ground.

"I guess I passed then."

The man nodded.

Alex let the man help him up.

"_Sapebo._" He said softly.

The man laughed softly. "Studying?"

Alex glared half-heartedly. He looked tried. "We're all not international assassins, Yassan."

Wolf watched as the boy allowed the man to lead him away from the bodies.

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Tom said with the rest of the older students. The headmaster stood on the stage. The lights flickered.

"I have been told that there is a government sector coming to move us to safety."

There were cheers. The mood was happy.

"However," he continued, "the government has told me that a militant group is also preparing to come here. They want to capture us and force us to fight for them. They are dangerous and should not be trusted."

He paused to rub his glasses.

"When the group from Boars Head comes, I expect you to come. They are here to help us."

A lot of the kids nodded. Tom wondered though. He hadn't heard of the Rangers before. He wondered who they were. Could they really be so dangerous?

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Jack looked at the map. They were in of the conference rooms again.

"Are we really going to do this?"

Mrs. Jones nodded. "It is Alex's school, so we and assume someone there might know where he has gone."

Ben grinned as Jack grabbed his hand.

"We're going to get Alex!"

Helen looked worried. "Will we be able to get all of these children to safely?"

Martha looked convinced. "Sure. We pull out the busses, and hit the motorways. Easy was cake."

John rubbed his face. He looked worn. "Will there be any problems? Besides the usual?"

Mrs. Jones pursed her lips. "You know that people have joined groups? For protection, there is none bigger and more organized then the Rangers. They have ex-military, possibly SAS, and are deadly to civilians too."

She pressed her hands flat on the table.

"They are conscriptions in the simplest terms of the word. If they see talent, they will take it. In return for protection, they are given soldiers.

"They have no morals when it come to this. They have taken whole schools and trained them to be foot soldiers. They die quickly and are easily replaced." Her mouth twisted. "The common term is 'meat-puppets'

"We can not let them get to these children."

Jack nodded. "How soon do we have?"

Martha sighed. "It'll take us a few weeks to get outside of London. Possibly four weeks, the fastest."

Ben tapped his finger on the table. "Let's get ready then."

He left the room with Jack.

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Martha and Mrs. Jones sat across from each other.

"Be honest with me, Jones."

The woman looked up from her papers.

"What are the chances of Alex Rider being in his school?"

Mrs. Jones rubbed the bridge of her nose. "Not likely."

Martha snorted. "Fine."

She stood up, and paused.

Martha looked down on the top of Mrs. Jones' head. "What are the chances of him being in the Rangers?"

Mrs. Jones didn't answer.


	10. Chapter 10

_Sorry I have been missing for so long. First, I had a great hol, going to the coast with some friends. I got back feeling awful_. _I put it off as a case of food poisoning. Luckily my room-mate's mum is a nurse. They dragged me to the hospital-where I found out I had chronic dehydration (laymans terms- my body was shutting down from lack of water). Great. Then a week later one of my friends got appendicitis. It's been a scary, exhausting couple of weeks. I'm sorry for the wait, and if this chapter is not up to standards._

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Alex sat in the tent with four other boys. He went through the motions. Eat, sleep, train. Try to ignore the moans from outside the labyrinth of fences. Sometimes Alex remembered Before. Before the end. Before MI6. Before finding the silver car rent with machine gun fire.

Then he would come back to the present. In all honestly, he wasn't prepared. A month with Scorpia was nothing. His accuracy with a handgun was _seventy-five percent_. Great, but he was not a master. Karate could only get one so far, fighting those who felt no pain. Alex still practiced though. For something to do.

A sharp sting forced Alex out of his thoughts. The fly buzzed away. It was swollen and black and moved quickly in the morning light. Alex squinted. One of the boys near-by rose. He walked forward with care and sat next to Alex. He was ignored.

"No one blames you, you know."

"I know." Alex didn't look at the boy. It had been three weeks. It wasn't mentioned anymore. An accident. They happen.

"I'm Nick." The boy offered.

"Fantastic."

Nick was grinning, Alex guessed. How annoying.

"What do you want?" No point in being friendly.

"Well," Nick leaned forward. "I want to discuss our _mentors_."

Alex took a bite of the sandwich. Stale rye and turkey. "Why?"

"Because mine is a Pacifist."

"That's great Nick. You must be the best of friends."

Again, Nick ignores the sarcasm. "Not really."

Alex stiffened a sigh. He did not want to get into a deep emotional conversation. Hell, he hadn't even _spoken_ to his mentor since…the test.

"Do you want to know why?" Nick asked.

"No."

Alex was ignored.

"Well… my mentor is under the assumption that you should kill a zomb as quickly as possible."

Alex was amazed at the different names for zombies: zomb, moaner, Zed, muncher, chomps, even 'dead heads'. But that reminded Alex of Jack, so he ignored that train of thought.

"Right. Safer that way."

Nick shook his head. "He says it's because they feel _pain_."

Alex snorted.

"I'm serous!" Nick shouted, looking like he was going to burst into laughter. "He feels _bad_ for them!"

The other boys were watching to commotion. One boy piped up:

"You have it lucky." He paused for emphasis. "Mine's a Rager."

A few of the boys flinched in sympathy.

"She likes to use the blunt tools. Her fav is the hammer. Gets blood every where. And I have to do her laundry."

A few snickers followed that.

Alex thought of another Blunt that would be useful against zombies. If he was still alive.

Nick grabbed Alex's shoulder. "Who have you got?"

"Yassen Gregorovich."

Nick sucked in a breath. "Stone Cold."

A few of the boys murmured in sympathy.

"What's that?" Alex had a sinking feeling.

"Well, the Rangers are very careful about the future…" Nick began. Alex noticed a few of the boys coming closer to hear.

"They want the world to function, as well as it can. To be a safe place- the safest place- it could possibly be.

So they pick the kind of people they want. They have a check-list. A certain number of Pacifists, certain number of Ragers, and certain number of Stone Cold bastards.

That's what we turn into. There are others, Teachers and Doctors and the like. But the people who fight… you have to fit a mold."

Nick looked around. "We all do."

Alex ignored the sinking feeling in his stomach. "And what to Stone Colds do?"

Nick shrugged. "My mentor calls them the _avant garde_."

"Are you sure? He said _avant garde_?"

"Yah." Nick nodded. "Totally."

Alex felt weak and shaky. His body felt cold. _Avant garde__. Front lines._

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

_Again, sorry for the awful quailty. May be better in a few weeks and do a real chapter. I wanted to let you guys know I was still alive-and chapters that are only author's notes are kinda lame... :)_


	11. Chapter 11

_Hooray! Another chapter. More zombies to come. Also…I'm looking for a beta! Just PM me._

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Sabina ran on. Her breath came in short pants and her chest burned. She wasn't overweight, but she was in no way fit enough for all this. The road was covered in scorch marks and bits of broken glass. Sabina's shovel felt unwieldy in her hands. Something small darted across the road. Sabina stifled a scream. Didn't want to attract anything…

She walked across the road, following it. Sure, it wasn't the brightest of ideas, but she doubted a zombie could be that small.

The ground sloped away sharply. Sabina picked her way down carefully. It wouldn't do to have a broken leg. The ground was soft. Suddenly Sabina was sliding down the hill. Her hands tore at the ground, trying desperately to slow herself. Her foot got caught in a clump of grass and her head cracked on a rock. She rolled over and over before slamming into a tree. She hurt so much. The sky above was spinning. Sabina tried to focus on the sun. The orb was yellow white and obscured by clouds that lurched sickening as she tried to stand. She lay there trying to control her breathing. It kept hitching. Was she crying? She wasn't sure.

Someone would come. She wasn't the only human left. She couldn't be.

Leaves rustled above her head. What month was it? Nearer summer? Or was it going to be winter soon? Sabina strained to hear a sound-any sound. There was the wind rushing through the trees. _Rush, rush._ Something big rushed by. A car? Was that a car?

Then Sabina heard the car slow.

_Come to me! I'm here. I'm here! Please. Oh, please._

"Don't leave me!" she screamed. "Don't go!"

Footsteps were coming. _Please. Oh. Please. Thank God._ They crunched through leaves, coming closer. Sabina tried to push herself up again. It was easier this time. _Thank you, thank you._ Sabina saw who was coming. He had be handsome once. When he was alive. He came closer. Sabina looked for her shovel. She had lost it during the fall. Her hands were pulling her backwards and the smell of rotting meat stung her nose and her eyes burned and at some point she realized she was screaming and her leg was broken. Sabina kept her eyes on him. He was getting closer without moving faster. Something small ran by Sabina and she saw it and ignored it. Desperately she pushed with her un-broken leg to move faster. Her shoe came off and her sock was black with mud.

_Pop. Pop._ Two shots, fired with a suppressor. His head snapped back. The body crumpled. Sabina kept pushing herself away.

She finally stopped and lay down. She was some cold and wet. Something moved on her left. It jumped on her body. Sabina stared in shock at the corgi sitting on her stomach.

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Jack sat in the mess with Martha and Ben. Hank was watching her from across the room. She ignored him. Alex was more important. She knew that she was starting to boarder on obsession, the way she thought about him…where he was, what he was doing, what he was feeling or thinking or saying.

Ben tensed next to her. Jack looked. Mrs. Jones had entered the room. Martha had told Ben and Jack what had happened when everyone had left the meeting. The three had decided that it was better not to tell John or Helen. They had been through too much.

Mrs. Jones raised her hand for silence.

"We will be leaving in four weeks to rescue a large number of survivors that has come to our attention. They are living in a school outside of London called Brookland Comprehensive. There is a large population of children there. I believe this will be very simple. We owe it to these children to get them to safely."

"She didn't mention the opposing force," whispered Martha.

Jack nodded. She turned back to the front, where Jones was still specking.

"… be taking three buses. We will take twenty people, spread through the buses. Any vouinteers?"

Jack shot to her feet, Ben and Martha on either side. John and Helen also stood. Jack noticed with distaste that Hank also stood.

"Fine." Mrs. Jones said. "Thank you."

She left was quickly as she had come.

Jack huffed and threw herself into her seat.

Ben smiled slightly.

"Why the delay?"

Martha shrugged. "No idea."

Hank coughed. He was standing behind Ben.

Jack glared at him.

"I may know."

"Will you tell me?" She asked. Jack hated playing these games.

"What will I get in return?" He smirked.

"I won't gut you." Ben said. Somehow he had maneuvered himself so he was standing behind Hack, knife pressing into his stomach.

Hank spoke quickly. "The Queen's coming. They want to have a good impression. That's all I know." His bravo was gone.

Ben removed the knife. "Thank you."

Hank spun around and stood nose to nose with Ben. Hank was significantly taller. The bravo was back.

"I'll get you." He snapped. "You just wait. You close your eyes and…" Hank drew his finger across his throat then staked away.

"Great." Martha said. "Very mature."

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Alex adjusted the grip on the sword. It looked short and thick and like it was covered with years of rust.

He was standing in a field. Or what used to be a field. The grass was gone. The ground was packed earth and sand.

"What did you call it?" He asked. It was also very heavy.

"It is a _gladius. _It is a Roman sword."

Alex looked at Yassen skeptically. Romans? "What's wrong with guns?"

"Guns jam."

"That's it? Scorpia spent years training you and you give all that up because guns jam?"

"Do you know French?" Yassen asked.

Alex had no idea where this came from. "Yes."

"Then you might know what _avant garde__ means."_

_"Sure." Alex said. He swallowed. "The front guard."_

_"Exactly." Yassen held up his __gladius._ "We will be the front lines…"

"Wait!" Alex held up his hands. "Look, I appreciate everything, the food, the protection, it's great. Really. But I need to find someone."

Yassen lowered his _gladius._

Alex continued. "I left the house. She told me not to and I left and got hit in the face with a bucket of acid and was dragged to Kent for God's sake. Then the damn _Rangers_ come and take me here like I'm some kind of property."

Alex shrugged. "So…I appreciate all of this." He waved his arm. "But I made a promise, and I indent to keep it."

"I see." Yassen said.

Alex snorted. "No you don't. You don't know anything about promises…"

Yassen's _gladius _hissed forward and Alex jumped back. Alex's _gladius_ clattered to the ground.

"What the-" Alex shouted. He ducked under the next swing. "What are you playing at?"

"I'm not playing at anything." Yassen snapped. His eyes flashed. "I broke out of a prison, a nice, safe, prison, to come and find you."

Alex froze. "What? Why?"

He jumped out of the _gladius_ way. "Why would you do something stupid like that?"

"To come find you." Yassen hissed. "Because I made a promise."

Yassen looked at Alex's scarred face and saw he had made his point.

"Pick up the shield." Yassen pointed with his sword. It was a rectangle, about six feet, curved at the longer edges back. "That's called a _scutum_."

Alex hefted it.

"Now," Yassen said. "You will need to deflect the force of a body slamming into that…"

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

_Again, sorry for the awful quality. I'm doing on a super long hiking trip for the next TWO WEEKS!_

_So** review**, but you might have to wait. Again, I'm looking for a beta, so drop me a line! :)_


	12. Chapter 12

_Have chosen a fantastic beta... :D ReillyScarecrowRocks is the fantastic beta. (you can take up all complaints with me….) _*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Sabina raked the hair out of her face as the leather seat stuck to the back of her sweaty legs. Air conditioning felt fantastic. Sab closed her eyes and allowed the air to dry her damp hair. The clink of ice against glass caused her to open her eyes. This was something- to be served a cold drink- by the _Queen_ no less.

Sabina smiled. "Thanks." She took the offered drink.

The Queen smiled. "You are welcome."

Sab snuggled back into the seat. The car was so bloody cold, but it was great to be in a car rather than walking everywhere. And it was much safer.  
Sabina took a moment to study the reigning monarch through half-lidded eyes whilst getting comfortable. Physically, she saw a frail old woman with white hair, a woman who could easily have been mistaken for a normal pensioner if not for the quiet air of command that surrounded her. Maybe it was her bearing, the way she held herself, that allowed Sabina to sense that this woman was not one to be taken lightly. She came from a long-line of royals who had taken and ruled their lands by force in times gone by. Though the position of Queen was mostly obsolete in the present-day, her blood still contained that of the great men who had conquered, and brought order to, the wild lands of the British Isles centuries ago. Sabina wondered what the Queen's role would be in the face of the country's current troubles.

"We are visiting military bases."

"Sorry?" Sabina opened her eyes again. She was just getting comfortable.

"Would you not like to know where you are going?"

Sabina thought about the question. "Not really," she answered honestly. "I'll just be taken for the ride. It is _so_ nice to just relax."

The Queen smiled softly. "I think you have not been able to do that for a while."

Sab shook her head. "No." Her eyes drifted closed again. She felt so tired. "I moved to America, see. California. It's really warm there. I could walk to the beach if I wanted to. But it took, like, thirty minutes." Sabina frowned slightly. "I'd get so sweaty and gross. And the sun would burn my eyes – it reflected off the sand."

The Queen watched the half-conscious girl. "How did you get here?"

Sabina yawned. "Dad...he's a journalist. Edward Pleasure. He and Mum went to a meeting...from MI6 of all people!" She laughed softly. "Dad was pissed..." Sab peeked at the royal. "Sorry."

"It is fine, dear." The Queen waved off the girl's concern. "I have heard it all before."

"Right." Sabina closed her eyes, "pissed...angry. He doesn't trust MI6," she clarified. " 'Cause of what they did to Alex."

Sabina sat up, looking closely at the Queen. "Do _you_ know Alex?"

"Who is Alex?"

"Alex Rider." Sabina watched the Queen closely. "You do!"

"I have heard of him. One of MI6's best. How in heavens name did _you_ meet him?"

"Wimbledon. He was a ball boy."

"My dear, you need to be a child to be a ball boy."

Sabina glared at the Queen.

"He _is_ a boy."

The Queen shook her head. "But...but you... why are you here?"

Sabina shuddered. "Well MI6 had the briefing, see. Got everyone riled up an' all. Dad wanted to leave. Go back to California. I didn't. So I did a runner." Sabina looked out the window. "I made it to Northampton before..."

The car went over a bump.

The Queen touched Sabina's arm. "Do not look out of the window, dear."

Sabina nodded. When she turned away, the Queen snuck a glance. The fields were empty. She saw only the occasional sheep, thin and gaunt. Then she spotted a sign. **16 Kilometres Boars Head**

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Ben gripped the metal railing of the guardtower as he saw a convoy of vehicles pulling up the twisting drive. It could only mean one thing. He scrambled down the steps, metal treads clanging in his race to the foot of the tower.

_Damn protocol..._ he thought. They needed some good news.

"She's here!" Ben shouted. "The Queen's HERE!"

The cars were already through the gate when he arrived. A large crowd was milling about in anticipation. He spotted Martha, who waved him over.

"Jack's at the front."

Ben manoeuvred until he could see her bright hair. She _was_ right at the front; he simply couldn't get any closer. Ben craned his neck and saw with shock that Anna was standing next to her. The Russian woman must have felt better, which made him relieved.

Sunlight flashed into Ben's face when the door swung open. A figure stepped out. Ben could tell it was about the same height as...

Hank launched himself forward. Ben saw it clenched in his fist. A broken bottle. If Hank hurt the Queen – hell if he_ killed_ the Queen – there would be issues.

Ben pushed a boy out of his way, but Jack was already there. The bottle shattered on the ground. Hank looked at the gash on his arm. Blood dripped the length of Jack's machete.

Then Jack turned to the figure standing slightly behind her, cowering by the car.

"Hey, Sab!"

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

Alex poked his _gladius_ into the dirt. He had been carrying it for the better part of two weeks. It wasn't that bad. Yassen was a pain in the ass, though; he really was as cold as he acted.

Alex had to work constantly. He was never good enough. Yassen never expressed his displeasure aloud, but Alex could see the disgust in his eyes. Which is why Alex was out here at midnight. He assumed the defensive stance again. Thrust with the sword, and step forward. Then retract the sword while stepping back. Repeat.

He didn't mind the fighting, the weight of the sword and shield. What really bugged him, what annoyed the _hell_ out of him, was the armour. Not just the armour. The bloody _helmet_.

It slipped again, covering his eyes. There were two leather straps that were supposed to tie under his chin. They chaffed though. He bled because of them! But he couldn't fight without sight; he had already experienced how hard that had been. Alex put the _gladius_ on the ground and tied the straps tight. He bent to pick up the _gladius_ and paused, staring at his shadow. His shadow was not himself. It was eerie, seeing a Roman shadow. How long had it been since the Empire's shadow had been cast on British soil?

It was not shock and awe – that tactic did not work on the undead. Yassen had explained to Alex, quite simply, that the Romans were the greatest fighting force ever.

Alex needed that strength. He pick up the sword and thrust again. In four weeks they would march for Brooklands.

*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*HIVZ*

_So? Didn't my spelling improve drastically? Shocker! _


	13. Chapter 13

Hello All,

This is Leonessa Ivanovna. I'm sorry for such a long siclence.

In all honesty, I'd forgotten about this site, and all the work I had left unfinished.

I'm letting you know now I plan on finishing every story.

This is the order of completion:

HIVZ August 2013

Auld Lang Syne October 2013

Planetside January 2014

TBC April 2014

Any questions of comments?

Please PM me.

If you're still reading, thank you.

Leo


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